In November 1968, the production staff of Dark Shadows was planning to introduce the Devil as a character. But a lot of fundamentalist Protestants and traditionalist Roman Catholics were making noise just then about the ungodly nature of network TV programming in general and of Dark Shadows in particular, so they decided to scale him back a little. In the scripts for #628 and #629, he was called “Balberith,” and in the credits he was listed as “Diabolos.” In The Dark Shadows Companion, writer Sam Hall is quoted as saying “We demoted him from the Devil to a devil, just one of Hell’s Associate Vice Presidents in Charge of Witchcraft.”
By the spring of 1969, the show had been a hit for quite a while, and the ratings were still climbing. So they could get away with things that had been off limits before. When vampire Barnabas Collins joined the cast in April 1967, ABC’s office of Standards and Practices decreed that he would have to bite his blood thrall, the luckless Willie Loomis, on the wrist rather than the neck, hoping that would keep the viewers from seeing anything homoerotic in their relationship. But when Barnabas traveled back in time to 1897 in #701, he immediately bit a man named Sandor Rákóczi on the neck, and yesterday we saw that he had bitten dimwitted servant Dirk Wilkins, again on the neck.
In this episode, a knock comes at the door while lawyer/ warlock Evan Hanley is asleep. Evan finds his friend and fellow Satanist Quentin Collins, profoundly drunk and asking for help. Quentin has been turned into a werewolf, and tomorrow night there will be another full moon. He pleads with Evan to help release him from the curse.
Evan says that he has no powers. In the course of his conversation with Quentin, it comes up that Evan is adept in black magic, and that the two of them have together managed to raise demonic spirits. So Evan suggests Quentin come back the next day for a ceremony in which they will summon “The supreme power of the underworld.” Quentin asks if Evan is referring to the Devil, and Evan affirms that he is. In the subsequent rite, Evan uses not only the word “Devil,” but says and repeats the name “Satan… Satan!”
Even Diabolos, whom I think of less as an Associate Vice President of Hell than as an assistant regional manager for upper New England in the black magic division of some company to which the Devil has outsourced some of his less urgent terrestrial operations, was irked when witches expected him to come to them. Their summoning ceremonies ended with them finding themselves in his office, which appeared to be located in space he had rented in a corner of Barnabas’ basement. So regular viewers will be skeptical of the closing cliffhanger, when a shadowed figure appears in the window at the climax of the ceremony meant to summon Old Scratch himself.
My wife, Mrs Acilius, gives another reason to doubt that the figure really will turn out to be Satan. The most potent villains on Dark Shadows have all been female. The first supernatural menace was undead blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins, who joined the show in December 1966 and transformed it from a more or less conventional soap into a thriller about the spiritual forces of darkness.
Barnabas came in Laura’s wake and brought a new audience, but the show was as slow-paced in his first months as it had been before Laura came. It was only when Barnabas teamed up with mad scientist Julia Hoffman in #291 that the plot started to move at a speed that could hold the attention of the preteen viewers Barnabas attracted.
From November 1967 to March 1968, the show was a costume drama set in the 1790s. We saw then that Barnabas became a vampire because of a curse placed on him by wicked witch Angelique. Angelique’s manic behavior kept the 1790s segment moving at breakneck speed, and the show never really slowed down again thereafter.
Late in 1968, we met the all-destroying ghost of Quentin Collins and the terrible werewolf Chris Jennings. Barnabas came to 1897 as a result of his efforts to find out what was behind these two menaces. What we have found is that they are both the products of a curse placed by another female character, Sandor’s wife, the charmingly amoral Magda.
Angelique herself has come to 1897 to plague Barnabas. Laura was present at the great estate of Collinwood in that year as well. Last week was devoted to a battle between Angelique and Laura, representing a contest between two versions of Dark Shadows. It was a foregone conclusion that Angelique would win that battle- no one believes we are going back to the sedate, atmospheric, tantalizingly spooky show that ran early in 1967. But the two women were far more compelling adversaries than were any two men who have squared off against each other on the show. If you put Satan on stage, you can’t very well top him with a bigger Big Bad, so once we see that the figure in the French windows is male, we can’t really believe that Evan and Quentin’s visitor is the one they have invited.
Dark Shadows‘ first supernatural menace, on the show from December 1966 to March 1967, was undead blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins. In those days, we learned that at intervals of exactly 100 years Laura incinerated herself and her young son, always a boy named David, and that she (but not the Davids) rose from the ashes as a humanoid Phoenix. Well-meaning governess Victoria Winters led the resistance to Laura.
The story came to its climax as Laura she tried to take her son, Vicki’s charge David Collins, to the fate that had claimed David Stockbridge in 1767, David Radcliffe in 1867, and who knows how many other Davids in the preceding centuries. At the final moment, David Collins ran from the burning shack to which Laura had brought him and found his way to Vicki’s arms. With that, he chose Vicki and life over his mother and death, and Dark Shadows 1.0 reached its conclusion.
Dark Shadows 2.0 picked up immediately after, and focused on another supernatural villain, vampire Barnabas Collins. There isn’t an established mythology for filicidal humanoid Phoenixes, so the writers had leaned heavily on Bram Stoker’s Dracula and on stage and film adaptations of the novel for the structure and details of the Laura story. For example, in many scenes they went out of their way to show that Laura never eats or drinks. They eventually established that Barnabas doesn’t eat or drink either, but when he first came on they had to show that they were not just repeating what they had done so shortly before. So in #221, Barnabas clearly drinks a cup of coffee.
The original plan had apparently been that Barnabas would wreak terror for thirteen weeks while Vicki gradually figured out what was going on, organized a force to do battle with him, and then staked him in #275, destroying him in the last episode the ABC network was likely to air before cancelling the show. But Barnabas brought a new audience with him, prompting ABC to renew for another thirteen weeks. So his destruction had to be postponed indefinitely, and Vicki wound up on the margins of the story. She became Barnabas’ friend and stalwart defender before ultimately disappearing altogether.
Since then, Dark Shadows has been reinvented several times. Version 3.0 ran from November 1967 through March 1968; it was a costume drama set in the 1790s, to which Vicki had been transported by the mysterious powers represented by the ghost of Barnabas’ little sister Sarah. Version 4.0 ran from March through November 1968; it was a Monster Mash in which a variety of vampires, Frankensteins, witches, and other refugees from the Universal Studios back catalog stumbled over each other in an ever-more futile search for a coherent plot. Version 5.0 began in November 1968 with two stories revolving around nine year old Amy Jennings. These were the Haunting of Collinwood by the malign ghost of Quentin Collins, who represented a special threat to Amy, and the Werewolf Curse on Amy’s big brother Chris. I don’t know what was in the original flimsies, but I suspect this portion of the show was originally meant to be much shorter than it is and to serve as a prologue to Version 5.0.1, a costume drama set in 1897, when Quentin was alive and the werewolf curse began. It shows signs of having been greatly extended when Quentin’s ghost started to attract a large and fervent fan-base and the producers were unsure whether he could keep that following as a living being.
We finally went back to 1897 in #701, twelve weeks ago. Barnabas, who at the beginning of the Monster Mash period was freed of the effects of the vampire curse, tried to save Amy, Chris, and everyone else at Collinwood by doing some mumbo-jumbo, and found himself transported back in time. Having traveled to the past, he has once again become a vampire.
Among the many people Barnabas has met during his uncertain and frightening journey to the past is another iteration of Laura. It turns out that he remembers her from 1767, when he was a child and she was married to his uncle. She at first accepted his story that he was the great-grandson of the original Barnabas. He was a small boy when she burned that time, and all she can see is that her new acquaintance has a family resemblance to that boy. But he knew that she was planning to incinerate her children, among them the ancestor of the Collinses whom he knows at Collinwood in the 1960s, and he has been flagrantly aggressive in his opposition to her. She has learned that he is a vampire, and has tried to destroy him.
The highlight of today’s episode comes when Laura enters the foyer of the great house and Barnabas pops up to greet her. He calls her Laura Stockbridge, and she begins talking about what he was like as a boy. She refers to their similarity, implying that she is herself a type of vampire. She tells him he shouldn’t oppose her, and he says that he would want her to stop him if he were about to do what she is planning. She says that he cannot know what her plans are. He assures her he does know, and she lists all the people with whom he may have discussed her, dismissing each in turn as an unreliable source. Barnabas keeps smiling. For a thrilling moment, we wonder if his key informant was Vicki. Perhaps she told him about her encounter with the Laura of 1966-1967, and he knows everything she figured out in those days.
Alas, it is not so. Barnabas opens a door and reveals the slumped figure of Laura’s dimwitted thrall Dirk. Earlier Barnabas, in bat form, had attached Dirk to prevent him bringing a letter to the house that would have exposed Barnabas’ secret. Barnabas tells Laura he hasn’t killed Dirk, merely bitten him and questioned him. In the first two-thirds of the episode, Dirk, played by the always-regrettable Roger Davis, kept grabbing Laura and pawing at her; at one point Diana Millay does an adroit little judo move to block his hand before he can put it on her left breast. As a result of these scenes and countless others in which Mr Davis engaged in similar behavior, many in the audience will groan with disappointment when Barnabas says that Dirk is not dead.
Millay and Jonathan Frid are wonderful in this scene. Laura’s lines are perfectly suited to display Millay’s gift for subtle emotional transitions, and Frid’s delivery shows what he can do when he has time to learn his part and the lines do not require him to verbalize the character’s every thought. Mr Davis is also well within his range, playing as he does an unconscious and apparently dead body. He should have specialized in that, it’s the first thing we’ve seen him do really well in all of his many appearances on the show.
Undead blonde fire witch Laura is in the act of driving a stake into the heart of vampire Barnabas when she is interrupted by another undead blonde fire witch, Angelique. Angelique announces that she will always be there to thwart any attempt to stake Barnabas, which rather tends to deflate the suspense inherent in having a protagonist who is a vampire. The two of them exchange threats, and Laura finds that she can hold Angelique at bay by generating the right kind of fire.
Laura leaves Barnabas’ house. His unwilling sidekick, thoroughly human witch Magda, sees her and asks what she was doing there. Laura does not answer, but Angelique enters and tells her. Angelique says that Barnabas would doubtless wreak a terrible vengeance if he found out what had happened while Magda was away. Angelique orders Magda to go to the great house of Collinwood and fetch a fourth witch, black magic enthusiast Quentin. Magda complies reluctantly.
Quentin is falling down drunk, which is not unusual. He has a better excuse than he typically does, however, since he just found out that Magda turned him into a werewolf. He is furious to see her. He says that no matter what she thinks, he will not “lie down and die!” This elicits a laugh from Magda, who points out that he can barely stand up. She tells him that Angelique has ordered him to come to Barnabas’ house, and that he cannot oppose her.
In the house, Angelique tells Quentin he must help her defend Barnabas from Laura. Quentin moans that he is in no condition to help anyone, which only makes Angelique impatient. Unlike her and Magda, Quentin does not know that Barnabas is a vampire, so Angelique keeps reminding herself to say that Barnabas has gone away for the day and that Laura will be a threat to him when he comes back tonight. Quentin tells Angelique about a trinket Laura received from some of the gods of ancient Egypt that keeps her alive, and she sends Magda to steal it from her.
Magda goes to Laura’s cottage. Magda tells Laura that she has more reason to hate Barnabas than she does, since Barnabas enslaved her husband Sandor. She wants Barnabas to be destroyed, but if Laura tells the authorities about him Sandor, too, will be killed. The dramatic date is 1897, and the state of Maine abolished the death penalty in 1887, so Magda is afraid of an extrajudicial killing rather than an execution for complicity in Barnabas’ murders.
Laura tells her that it is necessary to expose Barnabas if he is to be destroyed, but Magda tells her of another way. She says that vampires can be killed by silver bullets through the heart. Laura goes to get money for Magda to buy silver and have it made into bullets. While she is out of the room, Magda steals the trinket. It seems that Magda has given herself a chance to get rid of both Laura and Barnabas.
Once Angelique has the trinket, she tells Quentin that he will have to perform a ceremony using his copy of the Egyptian Book of the Dead. He is still heavily hungover and balks at the orders, but she gives him no choice. Once he starts his incantation, he breaks into a big smile, clasps the book to his chest, and preaches the phrases like a megachurch pastor when the collection plates are circulating. We cut to Angelique. Her expression is so admiring it is hard to tell whether the reaction is the character’s or the actress’. Angelique does some mumbo-jumbo with objects in the fireplace.
In her cottage, Laura struggles. She looks frantically for the trinket, then prays to Amun-Ra. The final shot of her is filtered to distort her image. It turns her eyes into little black coals, which is an effective visual metaphor.
Laura has been important in the history of the show and is key to this little period of the plot, but it is fairly clear that she is a short-timer now. All she cares about is taking her children away and burning them to death so that she can renew her own existence, and she keeps saying she is on a tight deadline for that project. We can be sure she won’t succeed, and even if she does she will be off the show. So she really could die, making the cliffhanger more suspenseful than usual.
Soaps classically divided the days of the week so that very little happened on Tuesday or Wednesday, Thursdays were devoted to plot mechanics setting up a big development, Fridays would show that big development and end with a memorable cliffhanger, and Mondays would resolve the cliffhanger and give a lot of recap to bring new viewers up to speed. Dark Shadows never followed this formula. These last three episodes are a case in point. #755 was all about Laura trying and failing to figure out whether Barnabas was a vampire. That was a mid-week throwaway if ever there was one, but it aired on a Friday. Yesterday she got confirmation that he was, and we ended with a fine cliffhanger with her holding the stake and mallet beside Barnabas’ open coffin. That aired on Monday, but was a perfect Thursday scene-setter. Today, a Tuesday, we have a whiz-bang battle of the witches, with new alignments and new dangers, a great Friday climax with a cliffhanger fitting for the end of any week.
Violet Welles was far and away the best writer of dialogue on Dark Shadows, and today’s script is so full of gems that even the plot summary on the Dark Shadows wiki is full of quotes. I can hardly blame the editor for that deviation from the usual format, there is so much good stuff I would have been tempted to transcribe the entire script if someone else had not already done so.
Undead blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins realizes that Barnabas Collins is a vampire, and that when he was alive he was the “strange, dreamy boy with sad eyes” she was fond of in the 1760s, when she was married to his uncle. Laura and Barnabas confront each other in a graveyard at the beginning of the episode; she tells him he is not human. He passes up the opportunity to reply “So few people are, these days.” At the end of the episode, Laura and her witless henchman Dirk let themselves into Barnabas’ house after dawn. She has a mallet and stake, he has a pistol to ensure no one interferes.
It means something to longtime viewers that we end today with Laura poised to destroy Barnabas. It was Laura who cleared the way for Barnabas’ first introduction. She was the show’s first supernatural menace when she was on from December 1966 to March 1967, and her story was structured very much like Bram Stoker’s Dracula. That was successful enough that the following month they introduced Barnabas as Dracula Mark II. That Laura knew Barnabas in the 1760s when she was already what she is and he was still a boy also nods to this history.
Laura went up in smoke in March 1967, when the show took place in a contemporary setting, and reappeared in April 1969, when it was a costume drama set in 1897. In the interval, Dark Shadows changed from a slow-paced, moody Gothic drama meant for an audience largely consisting of people who were fans of Joan Bennett’s in the 1930’s to a slam-bang supernatural thriller with a huge following among preteens. In her first tour as Laura, Diana Millay could focus on her strengths in dry comedy and subtle psychological drama. This time around, she recognizes the new demographic and plays Laura like a villain on Batman. At times it seems odd that Dirk isn’t wearing a jumpsuit with his name stenciled on it.
Perhaps when she hits the stake with the mallet, the word “Whack!” will be printed in a bubble on the screen. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.
Meanwhile, Barnabas materializes inside a classroom at a school where Laura’s nine-year old daughter Nora is alone. Nora tells Barnabas that she is not happy at the school and that she and her twelve year old brother Jamison want to leave with their mother. Barnabas tells her to “Look into my eyes!” and he puts the zap on her. When he is done, he tells her that their conversation will be their secret. She smiles, looks directly into the camera, and tells the audience “I like secrets!” Denise Nickerson had a talent for delivering lines to the camera, and ever since she joined the show in November 1968 they’ve had her do that quite often. Rather too often, I’m sorry to say- it can chill the audience to see a character who is so disconnected from everyone else that they just start talking to us if the effect is used sparingly, but they have her do it so frequently that it has lost its force by now.
Nora and Jamison’s school is a miserable place, less a center of learning than a dungeon where the sadistic Rev’d Gregory Trask gleefully inflicts unwarranted and cruel punishments on both children and teachers. Trask’s daughter Charity is a member of the faculty, and since #727 she has also been Barnabas’ blood thrall. In #753, we saw Charity acting as her father’s second in command at the school, enforcing a particularly vicious sanction against Jamison. It did not then seem that her subjection to Barnabas had modified her role in her father’s operation at all.
When Charity enters and finds Barnabas with Nora, her two enslavements come into conflict. Barnabas tells her that Laura will be coming to the school to see Nora soon, and orders her to let her in. Charity is very confused and starts talking about her father and his rules. Barnabas bites her, leaving her more tranquil but quite weak.
Laura knocks on the door. Charity finds that Barnabas has vanished, and lets her in. She demands to see Nora, saying that she will take her away. Charity says that no relatives are allowed to visit the children at night, and that she will need permission from others to allow Laura to take Nora. Laura insists, and eventually Charity complies. She sends Nora down, and brings her packed suitcase. But Nora has told her mother that she does not want to go. We saw in 1967 that Laura’s children must go with her willingly if she is to perform her evil mission, and so she has to yield. She looks at the collar Charity has drawn up to cover her neck, and says that she will not tell her father that two of Nora’s relatives have visited her tonight.
Some of the actors have trouble with the names “Laura” and “Nora” today. It really was a mistake to give Nickerson’s character a name that rhymes with “Laura.” In #354, set in 1967, matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard told her daughter Carolyn that “Aunt Catherine” would be overjoyed to host her in her home in Boston, and that this never-before mentioned aunt gives wonderful parties attended by men Carolyn’s own age. Catherine cannot have been Elizabeth’s sister or a member of Carolyn’s father’s family; she must be Elizabeth’s own aunt. Nora is the only one of Elizabeth’s aunts we ever hear about, and she would have been 79 in 1967. As a grande dame of Boston society, she might still have been giving big parties featuring people of all ages, and so naming the character “Catherine” would have closed that loop.
It would also have opened the door for another story to add some action to the rather slow period leading up to the 1897 flashback. Aunt Catherine could have come to Collinwood from Boston in 1969 and met the evil ghost of the roguish Quentin Collins. Recognizing her favorite uncle but knowing that he came to a dark and mysterious end, that would have set up a confrontation that might have led to an enigmatic conclusion. Quentin killed other adults who knew about him, but his relationship with Catherine would have made it maladroit to bring their encounter to so straightforward a climax. Better to have her disappear inexplicably. That disappearance would be followed by signs that the disturbances in the house had suddenly grown far more dangerous. We would wonder if Catherine had joined with Quentin as another evil spirit, or if the two of them were doing battle in some unseen realm and inflicting collateral damage in the world of the living.
I have an idea who they should have cast as Aunt Catherine. Isabella Hoopes played dying matriarch Edith Collins at the beginning of the 1897 segment, and she was great fun. Had we been introduced to Hoopes as the spry and sophisticated Aunt Catherine, her turn as Edith would have been even richer. When Quentin chokes and threatens to kill Edith, we would try to read their interaction as a clue to what happened between him and Catherine before her disappearance. When Edith haunts Quentin after her death, we would look for clues as to what happened to Catherine after her disappearance. And of course Nickerson’s role as Catherine’s younger self would have gained another dimension, not only as we watch her interactions with Quentin, but also as we compare her personality at the age of nine to that of the octogenarian we had met previously.
I even have some dialogue Catherine could have exchanged with the Collinses of 1969:
Catherine: Roger, I hear you have married again. Will you present me to your wife this time? I must admit I took it rather personally that I could never meet Laura.
Roger: I’m sorry, Aunt Catherine. Cassandra and I have already gone our separate ways.
Catherine: Oh, I’m the one who should be sorry- it was tactless of me not to know… We Collinses have never have had much luck in marriage, have we?
Elizabeth: You and Uncle Ambrose were happy.
Catherine: Yes. Happy… But there wasn’t much luck to that. After all, he was my fourth husband and I was his third wife. We simply applied the lessons of experience.
Carolyn: So there is hope. After your disappointments, you found your grand passion.
Catherine (a look of frank disbelief on her face): Not exactly. (Pause.) Carolyn, your mother told me some time ago you were the one involved in a grand passion. His name is- what- Bud?
Carolyn: Buzz?
Catherine: Yes, Buzz. I should have remembered that, I once knew a Navy flyer who went by that name. If your Uncle Roger won’t be introducing me to anyone, will you at least present me to Buzz?
Carolyn: Oh, it ended between me and Buzz some time back. He’s left town.
Catherine: Ah, too bad. I’d have liked to meet another Buzz, the one I knew was so elegant.
Elizabeth: This one was hardly elegant. He rode a motorcycle, and that was his whole life. He always wore leather clothing and dark glasses, with a long beard and a ragged mop of hair. You never saw the like, Aunt Catherine.
Catherine: On the contrary, I have seen the like every often. Just such men make up your cousin William’s preferred milieu.
Carolyn (laughing): I once told mother I was going to marry Buzz, but that was an empty threat. Buzz isn’t the sort of man who really wants a wife.
Catherine: Neither is William.
(Elizabeth, Roger, and Carolyn fall silent. After a moment, they all start talking at once.)
Elizabeth: Have you seen-
Roger: How is old Mr-
Carolyn: Was your trip-
(They fall silent again. Another awkward pause ensues.)
Elizabeth: Do you know that there is another Collins at Collinwood?
Catherine: Oh?
Elizabeth: Yes, a distant cousin of ours, from England. His name is Barnabas Collins.
Catherine (furrows her brow): Barnabas Collins? Named for the man in the foyer?
Elizabeth: Yes, the portrait is of his ancestor.
Catherine: How odd. When I was a girl, I asked the old people around here about all of the portraits. They were happy to go on at length about all the others, but they were always tongue-tied when we got to that one. Left me with the impression there was something exceptionally sinister about it, or about the man. Of course that only piqued my curiosity.
Carolyn (suddenly defensive): There is certainly nothing sinister about our Barnabas!
Catherine: Nothing sinister? Are you sure he is a Collins?
(Roger and Elizabeth chuckle, Carolyn flushes.)
Elizabeth: Oh, he is a Collins, all right. He’s quite an expert on the family’s past. I’m sure the two of you would have a great deal to talk about.
Catherine: I’m sure. But I would rather choose another topic. At my age I can’t forget that I will soon be part of the past. I would like to keep my eyes on the future while I still have one.
This scene would have left longtime viewers with some suspense-generating questions. Why did Roger’s wife Laura go out of her way to avoid Catherine? Who were the “old people” at Collinwood in Catherine’s childhood? What did they know about Barnabas? Further, Laura and Buzz were so emblematic of two of the early phases of Dark Shadows that involving Catherine in a conversation referring to both of them would promise that she will be woven in with the whole narrative structure of the show.
Moreover, seeing a Collins who had spent decades far from Collinwood might give us a fresh perspective on the main characters. We see only those whose minds and hearts have been deformed by the many curses that loom over the estate. Meeting one who has been outside their influence for so long would suggest what it has cost the others to stay on the estate. We might then feel anew the tragedy that we have been taking for granted.
Every character we see today is a trespasser at the great estate of Collinwood. Libertine Quentin Collins was banished from Collinwood the year before by his grandmother Edith, but came back shortly before Edith died and left the estate to his sister Judith. He then accepted $10,000 from Judith on condition that he would leave, but he did not keep his end of the bargain. Judith is too afraid of scandal to take Quentin to court for an eviction order, so he’s still living in his old room.
Judith fired maidservant Beth Chavez the other day. Beth never did leave, and now the family has given up and started giving her orders again.
Quentin and Judith’s distant cousin Barnabas was ordered to leave Collinwood forever by his father Joshua. That took place almost a hundred years before. Barnabas then became a vampire. Now he’s back, masquerading as his own imaginary great-grandson.
Quentin and Judith’s brother Edward is estranged from his wife Laura. Quentin and Laura had an affair, and she followed Quentin to Egypt upon his banishment. When she came back to Collinwood several weeks ago, Edward ordered her to leave. She threatened to make a scandal, and he caved in, agreeing to let her stay in the groundskeeper’s cottage on the property. Today she is in the great house, and Beth tells her that she has orders from Judith and Edward that she is to see to it that she leaves the house and does not come back. They quarrel, and Beth leaves her in the drawing room. Later, Laura comes back to the house and demands Beth let her back in the drawing room, and for some reason Beth feels she must comply.
The only person we see who has a legitimate reason to be in the great house is servant Dirk Wilkins. Dirk has been bewitched by Laura and now is her cat’s paw. She orders him to let himself into the Old House on the estate, where Barnabas is staying, and to steal any papers that might shed light on Barnabas. Dirk and Laura certainly know that neither Judith nor Barnabas would want them to do this, so Dirk winds up not only as a trespasser in that house, but as a burglar there.
The end of the episode takes us to an old graveyard for an even more egregious example of trespass. Dirk found an old document written by the late Ben Stokes confirming that Barnabas has a secret, but ending with Ben’s vow to take that secret “to the grave.” Laura takes this expression literally, and orders Dirk to dig up Ben’s grave. Sure enough, they find more papers hidden in the coffin.
Diana Millay was a fine actress, capable of subtle psychological drama and unsurpassed at dry comedy. But her delivery of today’s opening voiceover is stunningly bad. Between her first tour of duty as Laura in December 1966-March 1967 and her current run, Dark Shadows changed from a Gothic drama aimed at adults to a supernatural thriller popular among preteens. This left little room for what she did best. She may well have been frustrated by the new situation. If so, that frustration might show in her decision to deliver the summary of the plot so far as if she were a nursery school teacher reading to a group of groggy three year olds.
Twelve year old Jamison Collins has run away from the unspeakably horrible boarding school where he has been imprisoned, and erstwhile lady’s maid Beth Chavez thinks he might be in the woods on the grounds of the great estate of Collinwood. Beth knows that her boyfriend, Jamison’s uncle Quentin, is in those woods. She also knows that Quentin is a werewolf, so she has gone out with a gun to protect Jamison from him. She does not know that the gun will stop a werewolf only if it fires silver bullets, so she is in trouble when she comes face to face with Quentin in his lupine form.
Luckily for Beth, Jamison’s father, the stuffy Edward, and his distant cousin, the mysterious and recently arrived Barnabas, happen by. They distract the werewolf, and Barnabas beats him with the silver head of his cane. The werewolf runs off, and Barnabas gives chase. Edward calls him back. Edward tells Barnabas he will need a gun to fight the werewolf, and Barnabas replies that the head of the cane will be enough. Edward demurs, saying that will work only once. Barnabas can’t very well tell the quotidian Edward that silver is the only weapon that is effective against werewolves, still less that he learned this while fighting a werewolf in the year 1969 and that he has traveled back in time to 1897 to stop the werewolf curse at its origin. Even if he somehow convinced Edward of this lunatic story, he would only increase the likelihood that a further uncanny truth would be revealed, namely that he himself is a vampire. So Barnabas helps Edward carry Beth back to the great house on the estate.
There, Barnabas decides that Jamison has probably gone to visit his mother Laura, who is staying in the groundskeeper’s cottage due to her estrangement from Edward. Indeed, we have seen Jamison there, talking with Laura about going away from Collinwood with her. Barnabas suspects what the audience is in a position to know, that Laura is an undead blonde fire witch who periodically incinerates herself and her children so that she, but not they, may rise and live again as a humanoid Phoenix. Another iteration of Laura was on Dark Shadows from December 1966 to March 1967, when the show took place in a contemporary setting. When Laura tells Jamison about the place to which she will take him, longtime viewers will hear echoes of what that other Laura told her son David in #140 about a land that “some call Paradise.”
A bat squeaks outside the window of the cottage, and Barnabas materializes inside. They haven’t tried this effect in quite a while. When they did it in #341, they superimposed the image of Barnabas in the wrong place on the screen, so that he looked like he was about four feet tall. That Mini-Bar was not very intimidating. But they get it right this time, and it makes for an effective moment.
Laura emerges from the bedroom, and is indignant to see Barnabas. He bluntly tells her that he knows she is a mortal threat to her children, Jamison and his sister Nora. He tells her he will take them from her. She says she is sure that he is capable of “tricks,” but says that she has some of her own. She causes him to suffer intense heat. He recovers, and a groggy Jamison comes staggering out of the bedroom. Barnabas grabs Jamison and sets out for the great house. When Laura again mentions her “tricks,” he replies menacingly that “You have not known mine!” Laura vows to have her revenge.
The original 1966-1967 Laura story was the first plot on Dark Shadows to be driven by a supernatural character from beginning to end, and it did involve some confrontations between Laura and the ghost of the gracious Josette. But it was nearly as slow-paced, understated, and heavily atmospheric as were the relatively naturalistic stories that preceded it. That other Laura was the right menace for a show like that. She did not come with the established imagery of familiar movie monsters like vampires and werewolves, nor was there any reason to expect her to generate a lot of violent confrontations or special effects. Despite her association with fire, Laura was a cool presence on screen. She fit with a sedate tone and appealed to an adult audience interested in the long arcs of character development. When the 1897 Laura zaps a vampire who himself just fought a werewolf, there is no coolness anywhere. The show is meant primarily for children now, and they want the heat action and imagery generate when they are packed tight into each minute. Diana Millay is certainly up to the job, though it is a shame she doesn’t have the same opportunities she had in early 1967 to display her gifts for dry comedy and subtle psychological drama.
Madwoman Jenny, estranged wife of libertine Quentin Collins, is on the loose again, and she is the object of a madcap search by Quentin’s sister, spinster Judith, his girlfriend, maidservant Beth, and his distant cousin, secret vampire Barnabas. Quentin makes two contributions to the process. The less important is to serve as the bait in a cockamamie trap Barnabas and Judith lay for Jenny. The more important is to keep up a running commentary mocking the other characters for the silliness of their activities.
The trap itself involves a moment of intentional humor. Barnabas has returned to the year 1897 to prevent Quentin becoming a ghost who will ruin things for everyone on the great estate of Collinwood in 1969. One of the things Quentin did in that year that terrified the characters and tried the patience of the audience was to cause the strains of a sickly little waltz continually to resound from the walls of the great house. When the show became a costume drama and we got to know the living Quentin, we found that he too played a gramophone record of that same tune incessantly, annoying all and sundry. The trap requires Quentin to play the recording over and again until Jenny hears it and comes. After it has been going for half an hour, Barnabas tells Quentin that the plan didn’t work and they should stop playing the waltz. Quentin asks “Are you tired of hearing this music?” Barnabas speaks for all of us when he replies “Frankly, yes.”
Not only is this a successful comedy, it also gives the cast an opportunity for some of their best dramatic acting. As Judith, Joan Bennett at one point stops, looks at Barnabas, and asks “Can we trust you? Really trust you?” She apologizes for the bluntness of that question, then admits that she has long been busy putting a prettier face on the Collins family than the dark secrets Barnabas has discovered make plausible. “I’m not really very trusting. I try to pretend we’re nicer than we really are.” In the parts of Dark Shadows set in the 1960s, Bennett plays matriarch Liz, whose whole personality is about denial and the pretense that the Collinses are nicer than they really are. Liz latched onto Barnabas as soon as she saw him, and refuses to see any evidence that he is not quite normal. Nor does she ever really face her own habits of concealment and their implications. In this little exchange, we see Bennett playing a character whose superficial similarities to Liz point up her profound differences from her.
“Can we trust you? Really trust you?”
Joan Bennett had one of the most distinguished careers of any American actress of the twentieth century. Terrayne Crawford stands at something of the opposite pole, and her performance as Beth leads most fans to declare that she is the weakest of all the members of the cast of the portion of Dark Shadows set in the year 1897. I don’t really disagree with that, but she is fine today. Miss Crawford’s great limitation was that she could play only one emotion at a time, and she was on the show in a period when the scripts gave every character complex motivations in almost every scene. But today, all Beth has to play is Anguish, and Miss Crawford does a fine job.
Beth took care of Jenny during the year Quentin was away from Collinwood, and became very close to her. In the nine and a half weeks since Quentin’s return, she has fallen in love with him. In a scene at the close of today’s episode, Beth tearfully admits to Quentin that she wishes something would happen to Jenny so that he would no longer have a wife. Beth collapses into Quentin’s arms. Jenny has been hiding in a corner, eavesdropping; she comes out, holding a knife. There have been occasions when we might have rooted for Jenny to succeed in killing Beth, just to spare us the embarrassment of Miss Crawford’s flat, tedious performances. But this time, we want to see more of her, and the prospect that Beth might die makes for an effective cliffhanger.
Vampire Barnabas Collins rises from his coffin in the basement of the Old House on the estate of Collinwood and calls for his unwilling sidekick, ethnic stereotype Magda Rákóczi. Magda has news for him. She has found madwoman Jenny Collins, estranged wife of libertine Quentin Collins, locked in an upstairs bedroom. Barnabas is not surprised about that. He was the one who locked Jenny there, and before dawn he left Magda a note telling her where Jenny was and instructing her to look after her until he came back to life. But Magda never saw the note. Quentin came to the house and read it before Magda came home. He tried to kill Jenny and was stopped by the timely intervention of his girlfriend, maidservant Beth Chavez. He came back later with another plan to kill Jenny, and that time Magda herself stopped him and threatened to place a curse on him unless he gave up.
Magda and her husband Sandor figured out that Quentin’s siblings, stuffy Edward and spinster Judith, have been keeping Jenny locked up in the great house ever since Quentin left her and she went mad over a year ago. They have also figured out that she escaped from the great house, made her way to the Old House, and that Barnabas saw that she was dangerous and trapped her in the room. They wanted to keep her there until they could make arrangements to take her to a Romani caravan where she could be taken care of. Magda and Sandor felt a responsibility to do this, because Jenny is Magda’s sister.
When Magda interrupted Quentin’s second attempt of the day to kill Jenny, she told him that Jenny was her sister. He was stunned. He had no more idea of this relationship than the audience did until we learned of it yesterday. He was so utterly shocked that his wife was a member of an ethnic group he despises that he went almost two full minutes before making a flip remark about it. That’s a record for Quentin.
Barnabas is also quite surprised to learn that Magda is connected to the Collins family by marriage, but it does nothing to change his plans. He has come to the year 1897 to prevent Quentin becoming a ghost who will ruin things for everyone at Collinwood in 1969, and he says that he dare not change anything that would prevent the events of the years in between from taking the shape they did originally.
This does not make much sense. Barnabas does not know why Quentin became a malevolent ghost, so he has no way of knowing how much history will have to change to prevent that outcome. Moreover, he has been quite reckless with the timeline in many other ways. In #704, Barnabas bit a girl named Sophie Baker, evidently killing her. Sophie wasn’t his only victim- in #740, Magda mentioned that Barnabas’ bite marks had been found on “girls”- plural- in the nearby village of Collinsport. Presumably those girls were dead when the marks were found. So he has already committed more than one homicide, ending the lives of people who would otherwise have worked, had children, and made who knows what other kinds of contributions to the history of central Maine. And he is continually picking fights with people and meddling in matters that don’t seem to have anything to do with Quentin’s future ability to rest in peace.
What Magda does not tell Barnabas is that Jenny at one point during the morning got away from her and Sandor, went downstairs, and saw him in his coffin. Magda frantically tried to persuade Jenny to keep this secret, but Jenny has so little contact with the world everyone else lives in that it would seem unlikely she will remember she promised not to talk about what she saw.
Barnabas is about to climb the stairs to go talk to Jenny when a knock comes at the door. It is Judith. Quentin has told her that Jenny and Magda are sisters. Judith and Magda have a testy exchange, ending when Barnabas orders Magda to go upstairs and see to her sister.
Judith probes to see what Barnabas knows and what he is planning to do. She says that he has seen the family at its worst, and knows all its most horrible secrets. He assures her that he is not interested in passing judgment. He mentions Jenny’s children; Judith tells him she has none, and he says that he thought she did only because she claims to have. The audience has known since #707 that Judith is sending money to a woman named Mrs Fillmore to take care of a problem relating to Jenny; it seems likely that this money is going to care for Jenny and Quentin’s twin children. After a few moments, it is clear to Judith that Barnabas has not penetrated very deeply into the secrets surrounding Jenny, and she begins to relax.
Joan Bennett plays Judith’s behavior very subtly. She is calm, quiet, a bit weary. She moves her eyes slightly from side to side, and occasionally purses her lips at the corners. Judith does not look like someone who has just learned shocking news, but like someone who is trying to figure out how to keep the rest of an old secret once part of it has leaked out. Bennett invites us to conclude that Judith has known of Jenny’s family background for a long time.
Judith getting her story straight.
Jenny bursts in, sees Barnabas, and declares that he is dead. She saw him in his coffin, she exclaims. This is not much of a cliffhanger ending. Jenny’s whole life is one long mad scene. If anyone starts to doubt whether Barnabas is quite what he seems, all he or Magda or anyone else who might be on his side now has to do is point out that the doubter is echoing Jenny, and they will be instantly discredited. This winds up as another in the long series of strokes of luck that have enabled Barnabas to keep operating for so long.
In September and October 1967, well-meaning governess Vicki and her depressing boyfriend Burke wanted to buy a long-disused property that everyone referred to as “The House by the Sea.” Collinsport is a coastal village, so many of its houses would lie by the sea, but at that point only that one was so designated on Dark Shadows. It was important that The House by the Sea lay on the other side of Collinsport from the great estate of Collinwood. When it was first introduced, matriarch Liz was eager to go there, signaling that the show was done with an old and unproductive theme presenting Liz as a recluse. And Burke was willing to live there with Vicki, whom he is determined to get away from Collinwood and the Collins family.
The house belonged to the Collinses, and the show suggested that it might be haunted in such a way that if Burke and Vicki lived there they would become possessed by the unquiet spirits of its former occupants, Caleb Collins and his wife, whom we know only by the initials “F. McA. C.” When Liz found in #335 that for legal reasons she would not be able to sell Vicki and Burke the house for a few years, the whole story vanished without a trace. We did not hear the phrase “The House by the Sea” again until #679, in January 1969.
At that point, the show was in fact running a story about ghosts taking possession of the living, a coincidence that leads me to wonder if the writers were making an inside joke about a story that was in the flimsies early in 1967, that was reflected in the talk about “The House by the Sea” that autumn, and that went nowhere. At the beginning of January 1969, strange and troubled boy David Collins was intermittently possessed by the ghost of his Aunt Liz’ great-uncle Quentin, and when Liz questioned him about some of his odd doings he made up a story about The House by the Sea to persuade her that he was just being silly.
In between those two stories, we did hear a great deal about another place called “A House by the Sea.” From #549 in August 1968 until #633/634 in November, this house was rented by suave warlock Nicholas Blair. At first it was said to be located at some distance from Collinwood, and it seemed that it might be the house Burke and Vicki had been interested in. But as we saw it, we could see that it was in quite a different architectural style. And as time went on, the house moved closer and closer to Collinwood. After a while, the opening narrations referred to it as “Another house on the same great estate.” That did not stop Big Finish Productions from conflating Vicki and Burke’s “The House by the Sea” with Nicholas’ “A House by the Sea” in their 2012 drama The House by the Sea, but the houses remained distinguishable on the show as of early 1969.
Now, Dark Shadows has become a costume drama set in the year 1897. Well-meaning time-traveler/ bloodsucking fiend Barnabas Collins has gone to that year, when Quentin was a living being, in hopes of preventing the events that made him into the all-destroying evil spirit of 1969. Barnabas does not have the slightest idea what those events were, and in the absence of that information he has decided that the best course of action is to antagonize as many people as possible.
Among the enemies Barnabas has made is the evil Rev’d Gregory Trask, head of a boarding school/ abusive cult called Worthington Hall. Another of Barnabas’ new enemies has, for reasons of her own, burned Worthington Hall to the ground. Trask has captivated the current mistress of Collinwood, spinster Judith Collins, and in #739 Judith offered Trask the use of a “small house on the estate” as a temporary base for the school until she can finance the restoration of the previous site. Today, Judith instructs a servant to take steps to prepare “the house by the sea” for this purpose.
Perhaps this means that Trask’s cruelty center will occupy the house Burke and Vicki wanted to buy. That Judith said it was “on the estate” would suggest that it is the one where Nicholas lived, and they have decided that so few people remember the dead-end storyline of autumn 1967 that they no longer need to keep the two houses distinct by calling only one of them “The House by the Sea.”
No More Knife
While Quentin was haunting Collinwood in late 1968 and early 1969, he showed himself to be a peculiarly corporeal sort of ghost. In addition to the usual ghostly business of materializing and dematerializing inside closed rooms, possessing children, and making noises resound from everywhere and nowhere all at once, he also poisoned one person, choked another, and came and went through a secret passage. Occasionally this served to show that Quentin’s power started small and grew steadily until he was irresistible, but it also left the impression that Quentin simply enjoyed feeling like he had a body. Now that we see Quentin as a living being, the impression that he revels in the flesh is frequently confirmed.
Quentin’s estranged wife Jenny has gone mad and is being kept prisoner in the great house by Quentin’s sister Judith and brother Edward, with the assistance of a couple of the servants. Quentin learned of Jenny’s continued presence at Collinwood only when she escaped and stabbed him a few weeks ago, and he still can’t figure out where in the house she is locked up. He has vowed to kill her once he does find her.
Jenny is on the loose again today. Judith has a close call in the drawing room. She finds Jenny there. Jenny menaces Judith with a knife; just as she gets Judith into a helpless position and it looks like she is about to stab her to death, Jenny picks up a candlestick and knocks Judith unconscious. Shortly after, Quentin comes in and finds Judith recovering from the blow. Judith tells him what happened. He gets a gun and goes out to hunt Jenny down.
Jenny makes her way to the Old House on the estate. She knocks on the door, and Barnabas answers. They introduce themselves to each other. His name means nothing to her; he arrived only nine weeks ago, long after she lost her marbles and was consigned to a hidden cell. No one has told her that Judith invited a distant cousin from England to stay in the Old House. But Barnabas knows exactly who Jenny is, and he listens to her every word and watches her every move with vivid interest.
Jenny announces that she has come to find Quentin. Barnabas says that Quentin is not there, and invites Jenny to search the house. As she walks through the front parlor, Jenny announces that “Sometimes he makes himself invisible.” That line will strike a chord with regular viewers who remember the ghostly Quentin of the 1960s, though Jenny is apparently thinking of a psychotic break she had earlier in the episode when she hallucinated his voice coming from various pieces of furniture in the drawing room. Nonetheless, Jenny is confident that she will know if Quentin is nearby.
Jenny talks about her “children”; Barnabas visited one of her former cells, and saw that there were dolls there. He asks twice if the children she is talking about are dolls, and each time she angrily insists that she has real live children and that they are in her room at Collinwood. She sings a lullaby in a minor key; she forgets the lyrics halfway through, and asks Barnabas if he knows them. She has a lovely voice, and he seems to be sincere when he says he is sorry that he cannot help her finish the song.
As Jenny talks about her children, it dawns on Barnabas that she may in fact have had children who were taken from her. His reaction to this is an important moment. In 1969, Barnabas learned that in 1897 a baby died and was buried in an unmarked grave on the grounds of Collinwood with an amulet meant to ward off werewolves. So far in his trip back to that year, he has found no babies and there is no werewolf. His response to Jenny’s talk of her children looks like a man making a wild surmise. If the baby in the unmarked grave was one of Jenny’s children, the werewolf must be coming very soon.
Barnabas makes the connection.
Jenny is sitting on the staircase for part of this conversation with Barnabas. Ever since Barnabas first met David in #212, he has had his most human moments while standing on the floor and talking to people on that staircase, and his talk with Jenny is an outstanding example. He talks to her very gently. Perhaps he has the presence of mind to try to befriend someone who might be useful to him, but whatever he is thinking he shows a real warmth.
Jenny tries to stab Barnabas; he takes the knife from her. She cowers in a heap on the floor, wailing that now he will kill her. He throws the knife in the fire and tells her she has nothing to fear. Of course, a metal blade could not harm a vampire, so it was easy enough for Barnabas to remain unruffled during the attack.
Barnabas vetoes Jenny’s demand to search the basement, where his coffin is, and takes her upstairs to a bedroom once occupied by his lost love Josette. In 1967, he restored that bedroom to the condition it was in when Josette lived there, and for some reason he has done the same this time. By the time they get to Josette’s room, Jenny thinks that she and Quentin are on their honeymoon and that Barnabas is a bellhop. She apologizes that she has no money to give him as a tip.
Jenny looks into the mirror and is revolted by the terrible person she sees there. Barnabas points to an assortment of lady’s toiletries and assures her that the terrible person will go away if she uses them. He locks her in the room and calls for his servant Magda.
Jenny is so crazy we can never be sure what she will make of any set of facts she encounters, and Barnabas is, for once, keeping his thoughts to himself throughout his scene with her. But however much ambiguity may be built into Barnabas and Jenny’s interactions with each other, there is no question what Marie Wallace and Jonathan Frid are doing. She is supposed to play Jenny without restraint, and she makes the most of that opportunity to be larger-than-life. He also seizes his chance to show what he can do when he has time to really learn his part. He is not only letter-perfect with his lines, but also subtle and precise in his characterization of Barnabas’ reactions and intentions. It is a fascinating performance.
Jenny hears Barnabas calling Magda’s name. She not only repeats it, but also says the name of Magda’s husband Sandor. Magda and Sandor have been in the Old House for quite some time, well before Barnabas showed up and forced them into his service, so it is no surprise that Jenny remembers them. It is interesting that she seems to have strong feelings about them, though. Before she left the great house, Jenny was talking to herself, saying that her father was “a king in India.” Sandor and Magda are Romani, and the Romani people originated in India. Their ethnicity may be what brought that part of the world to Jenny’s mind.
Magda and Sandor are out. The sun is rising. Barnabas leaves a note for Magda, and goes to his coffin for the day. Quentin enters, brandishing his pistol. He finds the note and a key, and goes upstairs. We close with him standing outside Josette’s room. He and Jenny talk to each other through the locked door. He tells her that he is coming to her and that they will never be separated again.
In a comment about Danny Horn’s post about this episode on Dark Shadows Every Day, David Pierce makes an interesting observation:
My favorite line was from Quentin to Judith when he wants to know how Jenny escaped: “What, did she leave by fasting and prayer?” He was misquoting Jesus from the New Testament, Matthew Chapter 17, verse 21 “Howbeit this kind goeth not out but by prayer and fasting.”
David Pierce, comment left at 12:01 PM Pacific time 13 January 2021 on Danny Horn, “Episode 744: Crazy Little Thing,” Dark Shadows Every Day, 9 October 2015
Quentin does paraphrase the Bible quite often, a habit which, combined with his penchant for Satanist ceremonial practice and his gleeful libertinism, suggests that he won’t pass up any potential source of delights.
Rakish Quentin and time traveling vampire Barnabas have each been fighting undead blonde fire witch Laura, and today they agree to team up. This marks the beginning of their friendship, which will be central to Dark Shadows for the next 90 weeks.
The script has some problems. The dialogue between Quentin and Barnabas runs in circles, and there are scenes where, for no apparent reason, the two of them go back and forth between Barnabas’ house and the cottage where Laura is staying. But the episode is still fun. The actors deserve a lot of credit for that. David Selby and Jonathan Frid both turn in such fine performances that even the most unnecessary scenes between Quentin and Barnabas hold our interest, and Diana Millay finds ways to make Laura intriguing even when she is saddled with the disagreeable Roger Davis as her only scene partner.
There is also a happy accident with a special effect. Barnabas has called on Laura to appear in his house as a ghost; she is before him as a transparency when Quentin enters. Quentin’s presence breaks the spell, and she vanishes. In the cottage where she has been staying, a male servant whom she has bewitched is waiting for her. She reappears there; she materializes and passes out. The image of her overlaid on the picture is a little too small and a little too high in the frame, so that when she collapses she doesn’t quite reach the floor.
The result turns out to be better than it would if the effect had worked as intended. Laura’s appearance and her fainting seem to play out in a window briefly opened between one world and another.
The episode ends with Laura sending a telepathic message to Quentin’s estranged wife, madwoman Jenny. The scene plays out with Laura in voiceover while Jenny is alone in the cell where Quentin’s brother and sister have been keeping her. Laura wants Jenny to escape and kill Quentin. Again the dialogue is awkward and repetitive, but Millay and Marie Wallace save it.
Dark Shadows Commentary 