Christianity – Dark Shadows Commentary

Episode 1007: Accumulating guilts

Chemist Horace Gladstone has been selling a strange and powerful synthesis of his own invention to Cyrus Longworth, an independent medical researcher. Cyrus refuses to tell Gladstone what he is using the synthesis for. Gladstone has now figured it out for himself. Cyrus has concocted a potion which he drinks to change his appearance, disguising him so effectively that even the people who know him best do not recognize him. In that disguise, Cyrus calls himself “John Yaeger,” spends a lot of money, and indulges his sadistic impulses.

Gladstone comes to Cyrus’ lab and tells him what he knows. Cyrus tries to deny that he is Yaeger, and Gladstone lists the evidence he has collected proving that he is. Gladstone tells Cyrus that he doesn’t believe he can do without the thrills he gets from his activities as Yaeger. The story has been crafted as an account of addiction, so returning viewers are sure Gladstone is right. He says he will go on serving as Cyrus’ connection for the drug he craves, but the price has gone up. He demands $10,000.

Cyrus first learned Gladstone’s name from his late friend Angelique Stokes Collins. Angelique was a woman of vast learning in a variety of fields, much like the title character in Edgar Allan Poe’s story “Ligeia.” Also like Ligeia, Angelique has returned from the dead. She is now back in the great house of Collinwood, impersonating the identical twin sister whom she murdered on the night of her resurrection, and occupying her old room as the guest of her widower, drunken sourpuss Quentin Collins.

Cyrus calls Gladstone a blackmailer. In reply, Gladstone makes a cryptic remark: “Why do you think my number was in Angelique Collins’ phone book? She’s led many lives. Each person only gets one. Good night.” We have indeed been wondering how Angelique came to know Gladstone, and now we wonder if he is aware of just how literally true it is that “She’s led many lives.” It doesn’t make any sense to follow “She’s led many lives” with “Each person only gets one,” but actor John Harkins was so precise in his delivery that I’m sure that was the scripted line. If there was a slip, it came from Sam Hall’s typewriter, not from Harkins’ tongue.

If it isn’t a slip, I think we would have to go out on a limb to explain what Gladstone could mean. Angelique built up a cult around herself, including several people who were firmly convinced that she was going to rise from the dead. When her sister Alexis came to Collinwood, housekeeper Julia Hoffman, sleazy musician Bruno Hess, and Angelique and Quentin’s son Daniel were certain that the prophecy had been fulfilled and they were seeing Angelique redivivus. This was also the first thought that came to Cyrus, to Quentin’s brother Roger, and to Angelique’s Aunt Hannah, though they were more easily persuaded that Alexis was a separate person. The cultists are impressive enough in their certainty that even people outside their ranks were sure Alexis was Angelique returned from the grave. Daniel’s cousin and playmate Amy Collins was horrified to see her for that reason, and Quentin’s second wife, the former Maggie Evans, fled the house in part because she could not shake her belief that Alexis was Angelique.

If Gladstone is familiar with Angelique’s cult and has been involved with it, he might be saying that each person gets to participate in only one of Angelique’s lives. We’ve already seen that is not the case, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think it is. Angelique may at some point have taught her followers a doctrine like that. While Hoffman, Bruno, and Daniel expected Angelique to come back and rejoin them, Cyrus, Roger, and Hannah were unsure they would see her again, even though they were certain that she was not simply dead. Indeed, Angelique is still telling her most of her devotees that she is Alexis. The only one to whom she has fully revealed herself is Hannah. Perhaps she had a plan to transcend death, but did not know just how it would work. Or perhaps she has decided the rest are not yet ready to be initiated into the esoteric truth of her return.

Sam Hall was a serious Lutheran, so much so that he insisted Shirley Grossman convert from Judaism before she married him and became Grayson Hall. Christian studies in twentieth century academic institutions were largely taken up with speculation about differences of opinion in the church before the codification of the New Testament and the formulation of the creeds. This sort of thing is still prominent in divinity schools today, and is often heard from pulpits in mainline Protestant denominations. Hall must have been familiar with it, so he probably gave it some thought when he spent Easter season 1970 writing scripts about a figure whose followers sort of expected her to rise from the dead and who surprised them by the way in which she actually did so. I doubt he was making any particular point about the various schools of thought that seminary professors postulate in the primitive church, but when he presents Angelique’s cult as divided into several strains of opinion from the start he is developing an idea that he did not have to invent himself.

We cut from the scene between Cyrus and Gladstone to the basement of Collinwood. Angelique leads Quentin to a little chamber hidden behind an alcove. A human skeleton stands in the chamber. You may wonder how a skeleton can stand, but Quentin doesn’t. He is too busy being surprised that he didn’t realize this chamber was in his basement.

The skeleton is that of Dameon Edwards, a friend of Angelique’s who went missing about a year before. Dameon’s ghost has been haunting the place for a couple of weeks. Angelique tells Quentin that Hannah found the skeleton and exorcised the ghost. Yesterday, we saw Angelique exorcise the ghost. Returning viewers know that she is giving credit to Hannah because she is masquerading as Alexis, who did not share her sister’s interest in the occult or her aunt’s. Quentin thinks that Bruno probably killed Dameon. Indeed, the ghost confirmed this yesterday. Quentin very much wants to get rid of Bruno, so you might think he would be interested in bringing a murder charge against him. But he decides that would be too much trouble, and it hurts his feelings when “Alexis” snaps at him that he shouldn’t be wasting his time reporting Dameon’s murder when he isn’t doing anything to investigate Angelique’s. So he calls Cyrus, and the two of them bury the bones on the grounds of the estate.

Meanwhile, two long-absent characters have returned from trips out of town. Quentin sent Hoffman to visit friends of hers in Boston because she kept antagonizing Maggie. Quentin’s sister Elizabeth Collins Stoddard also went away for a long stay in New York, where she visited Maggie. In off-screen reality, Grayson Hall and Joan Bennett were both in Tarrytown, New York with several other cast members, working on the feature film House of Dark Shadows. Liz complains that Hoffman didn’t meet her at the train station with a car, and Hoffman explains that she just got back herself.

Hoffman says she missed Collinwood terribly while she was in Boston; Liz says she can’t understand that. If she were in Quentin’s place, she would sell the house and move to the city. That will interest longtime viewers. For its first 196 weeks, Dark Shadows was set in a parallel universe, where Liz’ counterpart owned Collinwood. When the show started, she was a recluse who hadn’t left the house for eighteen years. Her brother Roger often urged her to sell the place so that they could live someplace less gloomy, but even after she stopped being a recluse Liz wouldn’t hear of that. She was a symbol of the family’s commitment to the house. We have already seen that this Liz is the opposite of her counterpart in other ways, and now we wonder how far they will take that mirror image motif.

Angelique is in the foyer, talking on the telephone to Hannah. Villains on Dark Shadows have remarkably little sense of OpSec, and this is a case in point. Quentin, Liz, and Hoffman are a few feet away from her in the drawing room, and each of them knows that Alexis and Hannah couldn’t stand each other. All Angelique has to do is call Hannah by name and she will raise their suspicions. Yet not only does she use Hannah’s name several times, she uses one incriminating expression after another about how no one will suspect what they are up to. If any of them listens in, or of anyone else in the house happens by on their way to the front door, Angelique will have tipped her hand.

It is Hoffman who eavesdrops on the call. After Angelique catches her, they have an awkward exchange and Hoffman goes upstairs. Angelique then stands at the door to the drawing room and eavesdrops on a conversation between Liz and Quentin. Liz wants Quentin to go to New York and ask Maggie to come home, he throws a tantrum and says that Maggie is too childish for him to do such a thing.

Hoffman is in Angelique’s old room, talking to the portrait of her that hangs there. The members of Angelique’s cult make a practice of coming to the room and carrying on conversations with the portrait; when Alexis was staying in the room, she sometimes walked in on them while they were confiding their thoughts to it. Angelique eavesdrops on the last part of Hoffman’s account that when she was in Boston, she felt a mystic assurance that when she returned to Collinwood she would find Angelique come back to life. When Hoffman says that everything seems to be the same as it was when she left, she is close to tears.

The resurrected Angelique eavesdrops on Hoffman’s conversation with the dead Angelique. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Angelique takes a step forward, and Hoffman realizes she is not alone with the portrait. She apologizes to “Alexis,” and Angelique says she needs a friend she can trust. Hoffman claims to be such a friend. “Alexis” then launches into her reasons for believing that Angelique was murdered. After the first couple of sentences, returning viewers know what she is going to say, so we dissolve to Quentin and Cyrus in the drawing room.

Quentin and Cyrus have just buried the skeleton, prompting Quentin to feel sorry for himself. He then tries to explain to Cyrus something extremely weird he saw the other evening. He went to Angelique’s old room to see Alexis. He opened the door, and saw a space that lacked the room’s furniture, lights, and decor. He saw two children whom he took to be Daniel and Amy, and they said something about Barnabas Collins. The only person of that name of whom Quentin or Cyrus is aware died in 1830, but the children were talking about someone they knew. An invisible barrier kept Quentin from entering the room, and he could not attract the children’s attention. Regular viewers know that Quentin was catching a glimpse of the other continuity, and that the children were not Daniel and Amy Collins, but their counterparts David Collins and Amy Jennings. Cyrus hasn’t been watching the show, so all he can do is suggest Quentin take a vacation.

They’ve been experimenting with videotape editing, and they make a jump cut from the drawing room scene with Quentin and Cyrus to Quentin walking up to the doors of Angelique’s room. The effect is startling, I suspect intentionally so. Quentin opens the doors, and again sees the other universe.

This time Quentin sees the counterparts of Liz and Hoffman. As David and Amy had been, they are talking about Barnabas, who was last seen in this room. Hoffman, whom Liz addresses as Julia, says that they must keep the room open so that Barnabas will have a chance to return to them. She says she wants to stay there, because it makes her feel close to Barnabas. Liz excuses herself, and Julia calls out to Barnabas. As Hoffman had grown emotional talking to the Angelique whom she believed to be absent, Julia grows emotional when she talks to the missing Barnabas. She looks at the hallway, seeing not Quentin but the dark, empty space that is there in her universe. She asks if Barnabas is there, watching her. Grayson Hall plays these two scenes so similarly that we can have no doubt that whatever the one Julia Hoffman feels for Barnabas, the other feels for Angelique.

Quentin calls out to Hoffman’s counterpart, as he had called to Daniel and Amy’s counterparts. As the children had been unaware of his presence, so this other Julia Hoffman is unaware of him. And as Daniel and Amy had come to the hallway and asked why he was shouting for them, Hoffman comes to the hallway and asks why he is shouting for her.

Episode 1000: All people have a reason for their fears

Trask the butler is surprised to see young Amy Collins in the great house of Collinwood. Amy’s cousin Quentin, the master of Collinwood, sent her to stay in the Old House on the estate, home to Will and Carolyn Loomis. The visibly uncomfortable Trask tells Amy she is not supposed to come back until Quentin sends for her. Amy says that she can’t stand it at the Loomises. Trask snaps at her for making life more complicated “at a time like this.” Amy asks what’s so unusual about this time, and Trask claims that he just means that he has been working hard. After an awkward silence, Amy asks if there has been any news about someone called Dameon Edwards. At Edwards’ name, Trask flies out of control. He grabs Amy by the shoulders, leans down so that his nose is in her face, and shouts that she has seen Edwards again. Terrified, she says she hasn’t. He shakes her and shouts louder, she freezes tighter and tighter. It’s getting pretty disturbing when the front door opens. Quentin enters, with two other adults, and demands to know what Trask thinks he’s doing.

Jerry Lacy and Denise Nickerson do a great job in this scene, which comes as no surprise to longtime viewers. For much of 1969, Dark Shadows was a costume drama set in 1897. In that segment, Nickerson and Mr Lacy played Nora Collins and the evil Gregory Trask. They were terrific together then, as they are today.

Gregory was cruel to children, including Nora. Gregory’s goal was to take control of Collinwood and all its residents, and for a time he seemed to be succeeding. As such, Gregory’s abuse of Nora left us feeling helpless. This Trask is not in control of anything, least of all himself. We don’t know exactly what secret he is frantically trying to keep in connection with Edwards, but we know he believes that it might be exposed at any moment and that when it is he will be ruined. He is acting from panic. Outrageous as Trask’s attack on Amy is, we can see that it is not likely to be repeated and it does not fill us with despair.

Quentin takes Amy to the drawing room and talks with her privately. She is absorbed in her dislike of the Loomises’ house. She says she has a feeling that something terrible is happening there, but she can’t give any reason why she should feel that way. She says that Will spends all of his time writing a new book. This surprises Quentin, who says that Will hasn’t written a word in five years. Amy says that he is busy now, and mentions that she stole a couple of pages from his wastebasket. Quentin asks if she still has them. She hands them over, and he reads them avidly.

Quentin is so enthusiastic about joining Amy in spying on Will’s new project that he forgets all about Trask. Amy seems to have forgotten him as well. When Quentin walked in and found Trask getting rough with her, it looked like he was going to dismiss him on the spot, but now it seems Trask will keep his job for a while longer.

The two who entered with Quentin were Cyrus Longworth and Alexis Stokes. Alexis is the identical twin sister of Quentin’s late wife, Angelique. Cyrus was a friend of Angelique’s, and is a fool. He is a scientist by occupation, and unknown to any of the other characters in today’s episode has been taking a potion of his own devising to turn himself into a hairier and more openly sadistic version of himself. That Jekyll and Hyde potion was the end product of an idea he got from Angelique. Cyrus tells Alexis today that Angelique was his teacher in matters of the occult, with which he is fascinated.

Quentin, Cyrus, and Alexis have returned from Angelique’s tomb. Alexis went there to try to prevent the men from unsealing the tomb and opening the coffin. They were so caught up in the idea that she was really Angelique come back to life that there was no point in her trying to talk sense to them. When they had done their work, they were astounded to find, not only that Angelique’s body was where it was supposed to be, but that it was perfectly preserved six months after her death. Quentin twice asked Cyrus how that could be, first appealing to his expertise as a scientist, then to his studies in occult lore, and each time Cyrus responded with a declaration that what they were seeing could not possibly exist.

The men are now convinced that Alexis is not Angelique, and they tell Trask this. He never thought she was, and is entirely absorbed in his fears about Dameon Edwards. All he says in reply is that he believes there is an evil presence in the house.

Quentin and Cyrus want to cremate Angelique’s body. They announced this plan while they were still in the tomb, prompting Alexis to remind them that her sister’s will specified that she be buried and to threaten to take them to court if they go against Angelique’s wishes.

Cyrus talks with Alexis in Angelique’s old bedroom, telling her that the body’s extraordinarily uncorrupted state has persuaded him that Angelique survives in some uncanny way. He urges her to let the body be destroyed. She continues to demur.

Cyrus says that when she was alive, Angelique had a “rapport with the unnatural” that inclines him to believe she might come “back from the death.” These awkward phrases were probably just line bobbles by Christopher Pennock, but they suit Cyrus well. He’s supposed to be an intellectual who spends little time talking to anyone, and such people do indeed tend to stumble over their words.

Later, Alexis summons Trask. She asks him to drive her to the cemetery and to keep their trip there a secret from Quentin. He acquiesces.

At the mausoleum, Trask is worried about an impending storm. He says he will go back to the car to get an umbrella, but Alexis tells him to forget about that. He is simply to wait for her in the car. She plans to spend only ten minutes with her sister’s remains.

Alexis looks in the coffin and talks to Angelique. She has bad news for her:

I don’t know what your secret was, Angelique, or why you still look as you did in life. I only know that it is wrong. It goes against the natural order of things. I don’t want to do what I have to do now. Quentin and Cyrus are right. Your body must be destroyed.

Distraught, Alexis puts her hand on Angelique’s shoulder, touching her sister one last time. We cut to a closeup of Angelique lying in her coffin. Her eyes pop open, and her lips curl into a smile. For a half a second, these motions look like they might be mechanical reflexes taking place within a dead body as it begins to decompose. But then she speaks: “My dear Alexis, you were always so right. Someone must be destroyed, but it won’t be me. It will be you.”

The show has kept us in suspense for three weeks as to whether Alexis was Angelique. Now, they’ve settled that question, and we know who Alexis is. Unfortunately for her, it seems we just have time to say goodbye.

In our world, bodies do sometimes turn up long after death showing no visible signs of decay. There were several vampire panics in Europe in the early modern era when exhumed corpses were found still looking fresh after months in the grave. Cyrus does not know of any such events in his world’s history, so he and Quentin have to come up with the idea of a panicked response on their own.

It has also been traditional in many branches of Christianity to regard a long-uncorrupted corpse as a count in favor of putting the person on the calendar of saints. Dostoevsky was hugely fashionable in the USA in the Cold War years of the 1950s and 1960s, and it is probable that the writing staff had at least a nodding acquaintance with The Brothers Karamazov. One of the central episodes of that novel comes when the admirers of the godly Father Zosima insist on leaving his body unburied for a long period, certain that it will remain uncorrupt and prove that the anniversary of his passing should be kept as a feast day. To their horror, his remains rot in the usual way. We’ve only been in this particular universe for four weeks, and the only indication we have so far had that Christianity even exists here came early on, when Will used the sign of the cross to immobilize and trap a vampire. So it is no surprise that Quentin, Cyrus, and Alexis never consider that the perfect preservation of Angelique’s body might suggest that she has taken a place among the saints.

Episode 924: Afraid of the dark

Mad scientist Julia Hoffman finds that wicked witch Angelique has married a businessman who has a house on an island off the coast of central Maine. Angelique tells Julia that her husband’s love has freed her to live as a human being, and that for the sake of that love she has renounced her powers. In #882, set in the year 1897, Angelique said that she would soon have to return to the underworld unless she could find a man who would love her. The show has since returned to a contemporary setting, and she met her husband less than a year before, sometime in 1969. Evidently her time wasn’t running as short as she led us to believe it was.

In the 1897 segment, the show was quite clear that Angelique was aligned with Satan and that the underworld she was talking about was a Hell that Dante or Milton or other Christians would have recognized. The deal she described with her master therefore made little sense then. But Dark Shadows has drawn freely on the mythologies of many cultures and has made up stories about supernatural worlds of its own. The borrowings from the Christian tradition are a relatively minor part of the universe they have been patching together, and they have recently given us reason to suspect it is something they are backing away from. So I don’t think we are under any obligation to reconcile Angelique’s account of the lord of the damned with the teachings of any church.

Angelique is afraid that Julia has come to reenlist her in the cosmic battles surrounding the estate of Collinwood. In fact, Julia had no idea she would find Angelique. She went to the island because she had figured out that a painting she was looking for was there. It is a magical portrait of rakish Quentin Collins, obscured by a landscape painted over it. Quentin has amnesia, and Julia apparently thinks that if she shows him the portrait she will be able to jar some memories loose.

Angelique agrees to let Julia take the painting and expose Quentin’s portrait, on condition that the overpainting be exactly reproduced on another canvas and brought back to the house on the island before her husband knows it was gone. Julia suggests they tell him a lie that will give them more flexibility, but Angelique says he is “a very thorough man” and would ask too many follow-up questions if they gave him any information at all.

Before and after her scene with Julia, we see Angelique with her husband. The first scene begins with some very awkward kissing. The awkwardness is partly due to Geoffrey Scott’s total incompetence as an actor; he stands stiffly while Lara Parker simultaneously kisses him and nudges him to his mark, making it look like she is moving a couch. But part of the blame must rest with director Lela Swift, who set up the shot from an angle that puts the emphasis on the straining muscles in Parker’s neck and back. Perhaps Swift overestimated Scott’s abilities.

“Move three inches back and to the right, dummy, you’re supposed to be in the center of the frame!”

This scene is accompanied by some music for a small string ensemble; I don’t believe we have heard the track since the very early days of the show. It feels jarringly old-fashioned. All of Dark Shadows’ orchestral score strikes 21st century viewers as a relic of an earlier era, but it set it apart from other daytime soaps of the 1960s and early 70s, most of which had an organ playing on the soundtrack. Compared to the organ accompaniment, which today’s audiences would find simply intolerable, I suppose even these creaky old violins are relatively modern.

The second scene ends with a more successful kiss. It is accompanied by a woodwind piece that used to be associated strongly with well-meaning governess Vicki and her doomed love for dashing action hero Burke Devlin. Burke was written out of the show in 1967, Vicki in 1968, and this music cropped up occasionally in 1969 during sentimental moments. It is still noticeably more old-fashioned than the rest of the score, albeit more dynamic than the string serenade that went along with the first kiss.

Meanwhile, in the great house at Collinwood, strange and troubled boy David Collins is coming down with a cold. David’s governess, Vicki’s successor Maggie Evans, is trying to get him to take his schoolwork seriously. A boy known as Michael appears in the house and announces that he and David will be playing now. Maggie explains that it is not a good time, and Michael bullies both her and David into giving him his way.

Michael is not really human, but is a manifestation of a supernatural force that has subjugated David and many other people. Seeing Michael push Maggie around, we might remember May and June of 1967, when Maggie was the prisoner of vampire Barnabas Collins. Those episodes were bleak and at moments painful to watch, but they also drew a new audience and made Dark Shadows, for the first time, a hit.

Barnabas attracted a crowd, not simply because he was cruel to Maggie, but because we wondered how others would react to his evil deeds, because his motives were unbelievably zany, and because actor Jonathan Frid took a visible joy in playing him. He became a breakout star, familiar to millions who never saw a single episode of Dark Shadows or knew anything else about it, because he generated stories that allowed the whole cast to shine, followed his crazy ideas to the point where many of them became the realities of the show’s narrative universe, and had quirks that dovetailed perfectly with Frid’s strengths.

Michael has none of these things going for him. When he is nasty to Maggie, he does not produce any suspense as to what others will do. Not only do most characters assume that as a teacher she will be able to handle an obstreperous child by herself, but most of the people to whom she would likely turn for support are among Michael’s subordinates. There are no crazy ideas bursting out of him- he is just a little tyrant, who at no point seems to have any hidden motives or nuances of feeling. And Michael Maitland seems depressed the whole time he is on screen. As a result, Michael is as straightforward and tedious as Barnabas was luridly intriguing.

When Barnabas was holding Maggie prisoner, his blood-thrall Willie felt sorry for her. He occasionally made efforts to help her, none of which did anything but make her situation even worse. John Karlen’s portrayal of the feckless Willie brought him almost as much fan mail as Jonathan Frid received during that period. Today it is David’s turn to play Willie to Michael’s Barnabas, and he does not disappoint. Thirteen year old David Henesy plays David Collins’ conflicted feelings more subtly than Karlen had played Willie’s, and as a result we watch him very closely. Disappointed as we may be in Michael, Mr Henesy’s triumph in these scenes brings the episode to a strong close.

Episode 886: One of the most terrifying tales ever told

In #701, broadcast at the beginning of March 1969, recovering vampire-turned-bumbling protagonist Barnabas Collins was trying to solve some problems his distant cousins were having, and inadvertently came unstuck in time. He found himself in the year 1897, where his vampirism was once more in full force. Barnabas spent the next eight months in that year, precipitating one disaster after another around the estate of Collinwood and the village of Collinsport.

As summer gave way to fall of 1897, Barnabas’ friends managed to put his vampirism back into remission. In #844, he met Kitty Soames, the dowager countess of Hampshire. Despite what her title would suggest, Kitty was an American woman in her twenties. Barnabas recognized her as the reincarnation of his lost love Josette. In February of 1796, Josette found out that Barnabas had become a vampire and that he wanted to kill her and raise her from the dead as his vampire bride. She flung herself to her death from the cliff on Widows’ Hill rather than let him do that to her.

In the eight weeks following Kitty’s first appearance, Josette’s personality irrupted into her conscious mind more and more frequently. Josette wanted to live again and to be with Barnabas. By last week, Kitty could hear Josette’s voice talking to her through the portrait of her that hangs in the Old House on the grounds of Collinwood. Josette suggested that if Kitty stopped resisting her, the two of them could both live, resolving themselves into a composite being.

In Thursday’s episode, the boundary between Kitty and Josette had become very indistinct. As Kitty, she agreed to marry Barnabas that night, later to wonder why she had done so. She was holding Josette’s white dress in her hand and struggling with the idea of putting it on when she abruptly found herself wearing it. Barnabas entered the room just in time to see her bodily assumed into the portrait. He reached up to the moving image of Kitty overlaid on the painted likeness of Josette, and both he and Kitty vanished at the same instant.

In Friday’s episode, Barnabas found himself lying on the ground, wearing clothes he had last put on in 1796. He learned that it was the night of Josette’s death. He is a vampire in this period, but he is confident he can again be free of the effects of the curse. He does not want to kill Josette, but to take her back to 1897 with him. His efforts to that end were not at all successful, and Friday ended with her on the edge of the cliff. She hears footsteps, which she and the audience have every reason to think are Barnabas’. If she sees him, she is prepared to jump.

Neither Kitty’s assumption into the portrait nor his own translation to 1796 prompt Barnabas to ask a single question about what forces are at work around him. Regular viewers would not expect him to. He lives in a universe where time travel is easy. Not only did he travel from March 1969 to 1897 without even trying to do so, but in #661 he managed to get from January 1969 to 1796 by standing in a graveyard at night and shouting for one of the residents to give him a ride. And in #365, he was present at a séance where the ghost of his little sister Sarah, speaking through well-meaning governess Vicki Winters, said that she would “tell the story from the beginning.” Vicki then vanished from the circle and Sarah’s governess, Phyllis Wick, materialized in her place. For the next four months the show was a costume drama set in the 1790s, where Vicki flailed about helplessly while Barnabas became a vampire, Sarah died of exposure, and Josette jumped off Widows’ Hill.

Barnabas and we also know that portraits are powerful in the universe of Dark Shadows. When he is in full vampire-mode, he communicates with his victims and potential victims through a portrait of him that hangs in the foyer of the great house of Collinwood. Much of the action in the 1897 segment had to do with a magical portrait that keeps Barnabas’ distant cousin Quentin from turning into a werewolf. Quentin had a romance with Amanda Harris, a woman who came to life when another magical portrait was painted.

Barnabas knows, not only that portraits in general have power, but also that Josette’s portrait in particular is powerful. In his second episode, #212, he went to the Old House and talked with strange and troubled boy David Collins, who often communed with Josette through her portrait. After David left him alone there, Barnabas addressed the portrait and told Josette that she would no longer function as the tutelary spirit of the Collins family. At that point Josette was supposed to be Barnabas’ grandmother who sided against him in a fateful family battle, but even after she was retconned as his lost love he felt the portrait’s power. So in #287, Vicki had invited herself to spend the night at Barnabas’ house. While she slept, Barnabas entered the room, intending to bite her. But he looked at the portrait of Josette and found that something was stopping him from doing so.

Barnabas would not have any way of knowing it, but in #70 Dark Shadows‘ first major special effect came when we saw Josette’s ghost take shape in front of her portrait and take three steps down from it to the floor of the room where it was hanging then, the front parlor of the Old House. She then turned, looked at the portrait, and went outside, where she danced among the columns of the portico. Longtime viewers will see Kitty’s assumption into the portrait as a reversal of this momentous little journey.

Most people nowadays who have been watching the show for some time will therefore take the strange goings-on as much in stride as Barnabas does. But viewers at the time may have had a different reaction. Friday’s episode and today’s originally ended with announcements over the closing credits. These announcements were not on the original master videotapes from which Amazon Prime Video and Tubi and the other streaming apps take their copies of the episodes, and so most viewers these days don’t hear them. But evidently one of the DVD releases reproduces them as they were preserved on some kinescopes. One promises that in Tuesday’s episode “one of the most terrifying tales ever told” will begin; the other, that it will be “one of the most unusual tales ever told.”

A terrifying tale suggests a mighty villain. By the end of the 1897 segment, all the villains have either turned into protagonists, as Barnabas, Quentin, and wicked witch Angelique had done; been heavily defeated, as sorcerer Count Petofi had been; or were dead and forgotten. So “one of the most terrifying tales ever told” would seem to require a new villain, or perhaps a new group of villains. And if it is also “one of the most unusual tales ever told,” those villains will have to be strikingly different from anything we have seen before.

So, having heard those announcements, we will be less inclined to chalk Barnabas’ latest adventure in anachronism up to the usual way things are on Dark Shadows. We will be looking for signs that some previously unknown and hugely formidable malevolent force is luring him into a trap.

At first, no such signs seem to be forthcoming. The footsteps that alarm Josette turn out not to be Barnabas’, but those of her aunt, the Countess DuPrés. The countess talks Josette down and takes her back to the great house of Collinwood. Having saved Josette’s life, the countess takes her to a room occupied by fluttery heiress Millicent Collins. The countess asks Millicent to sit with Josette while she runs an errand.

Millicent means well, but always makes everything hilariously worse. Seeing that Josette is shaking, she observes that she is suffering a shock. She asks very earnestly “Was your shock a romantic one?” Josette responds by wailing. Millicent keeps talking about the dangers of love, causing Josette to get more and more upset. Longtime viewers will remember that Millicent will turn from a comic figure to a tragic one soon after this, when she falls in love with an evil man. That tinges our reaction with sadness, but Millicent’s total insensitivity to the effect she is having on Josette makes for an effective comedy scene. No matter how much the oblivious Millicent is worsening Josette’s mood, this hardly seems likely to be part of a grand evil scheme.

It turns out that the errand the countess had to run was a visit to Barnabas, who is waiting in Josette’s room. This time Barnabas has actually had a sensible idea. Rather than go to Josette on top of the cliff as he did the first time through these events, he asked the countess to go. The countess confronts him about his status as a walking dead man. Barnabas will not explain- how could he? He asks the countess if she thinks he is a ghost; she does not answer. He insists on seeing Josette; she says she will not allow it. He says he does not want to force her to help him; she declares that he cannot force her. Finally, he ends the exchange by biting her.

The countess goes to Millicent’s room and tells Josette to go back to her own room. Millicent is surprised the countess doesn’t go with her, protesting that Josette is in no condition to be left alone. The countess responds numbly.

The countess is one of three characters we have so far seen Grayson Hall play. The first, mad scientist Julia Hoffman, offered herself to Barnabas as a victim in #350; he declined the offer. Julia was motivated by a mixture of despair over the failure of her first attempt to cure Barnabas’ vampirism, an obligation to prevent him harming others, and her own unrequited love for him, so she was disappointed when he said no. The other, broad ethnic stereotype Magda Rákóczi, told Barnabas to “Bite me!” when they were at the grave of her husband, his onetime blood thrall. He refused to do that, too. Magda was angry and defiant, wanting to get something horrible over with, so her reaction was more ambiguous. The countess didn’t know Barnabas was a vampire until his fangs were in her neck, so she is just dazed.

That Hall’s other characters expected Barnabas to bite them, and in Julia’s case hoped he would do so, shows that no new force is needed to explain why he bites the countess. And bad as a vampire’s bite is, from what we have seen in previous segments of the show we can be sure that the countess will forget all about her experience as Barnabas’ victim once he leaves. Besides, when he came back in time in January Barnabas triggered a chain of events that led to the countess’ death- we can assume that whatever he has put in motion this time will have a different outcome for her. So while the bite still has its echoes of rape and is therefore a horror, it in no way shows the presence of any fresh villain that is about to set off “one of the most terrifying tales ever told.”

Josette is in her room. The secret panel opens, and Barnabas enters. She is shocked to see him. He assures her that he does not want to kill her and raise her as his vampire bride; after a bit of prodding, she gets him to admit that this was, at one point, his plan. He starts explaining to her that he has come to her after a sojourn in the 1890s. She reacts with disbelief and confusion. He keeps talking. He asks her if she remembers Kitty Soames. At first the name does not ring a bell, but as he goes on she recognizes what she had thought to be a dream in which she was talking with her portrait. He tells her that it was no dream, but that just a few hours before they were together in that other century.

Finally, Barnabas persuades Josette to meet him at the Old House. He says they must go separately, since he has to go to his friend Ben Stokes and ask him to stand guard for them while they disappear into the portrait. She wants to say goodbye to her aunt the countess, and Barnabas tells her to write a note. They kiss passionately. One wonders if Josette notices the taste of her aunt’s blood on Barnabas’ lips.

Barnabas’ decision to go to Ben and send Josette to the house on her own doesn’t make much sense. This is the first we have heard they need someone to stand guard, and there is no apparent reason why they should. Moreover, the countess is right there in the house with them, and she is under Barnabas’ power. The three of them can go to the house together, Josette can say goodbye to her there, and if they need someone to stand guard she can do it. Afterward she can tell Ben what she saw and tell lies to anyone else who has questions about where Josette went. Besides, regular viewers of Dark Shadows know that when two people are supposed to go to a place separately, they never actually meet there. A smart character who understood how things work in this universe would know that Barnabas’ decree that he and Josette must take their own paths to the house means that they are doomed. But contrary to the glimmers of brainpower Barnabas showed earlier, he has never been that smart. He is so much a creature of habit that his decision to send Josette to the Old House by herself bears no traces at all of any outside influence, least of all the influence of the new villain we are looking for.

Barnabas is on his way across the grounds of Collinwood to meet Ben when it dawns on him that he is lost. This is the first thing he has done today that is out of character. He has been on the estate for centuries, and knows it surpassingly well. He looks around and sees a cairn, a large stone structure. The cairn has a flat surface in the middle and is flanked with torches and decorated with carvings resembling coiled serpents. Though he does not know where he is, he knows he has been following the same path he used shortly before, and that no such thing was there at that time or in the area ever before. Hooded figures approach, a man and a woman. They make gestures that he cannot understand. He cannot see or feel anything binding him, but neither can he move his feet or use his vampire powers to dematerialize. At last we have encountered the new presence that is supposed to deliver “one of the most terrifying tales ever told.”

Back in the great house, Millicent and the countess discover that Josette is gone. They read the note. When Millicent reads that Josette has gone to be with Barnabas, she is puzzled. All she knows is that Barnabas is dead. As a visitor from light comedy, she assumes that death is a full-time occupation. She tells the countess that to be with Barnabas, Josette will have to die. The countess replies that “Many have died for love.” Millicent is shocked by the countess’ resigned tone, and declares that she will not give up on Josette even if the countess does.

It would have been impossible for Barnabas to explain the situation to the countess while she was actively opposing him, but one might have thought that after he had bitten her and broken her will he might have tried to reassure her that his plans for Josette were now benevolent. The utter hopelessness in her voice when she says that no one can help Josette suggests he didn’t even try. Again, it wouldn’t have taken the influence of any outside force to cause Barnabas to skip this. As a vampire, he is a metaphor for extreme selfishness, and when he is pressed for time he is especially unlikely to take other people’s feelings into account in any way. Though it is a bit of a shame he didn’t try to smooth things over with the countess, there is nothing in his behavior that needs explaining, and too little at stake here for us to imagine that the mysterious forces launching “one of the most terrifying tales ever told” would care much about it.

In the Old House, Josette is looking at her portrait and wondering why Barnabas is late. She talks herself into believing that he was lying when he told her the story about 1897. She jumps to the conclusion that he really is going to turn her into a vampire, and declares she has nothing left to live for. She takes out a vial she had with her when she was with Millicent and drinks it. It is poison, and she dies.

Back in the mysterious clearing in the woods, Barnabas loses consciousness. The hooded figures say some prayers to Mother Earth, then lay him on the cairn. They place some foliage on him. This action recalls the sprinkling of grain on the necks of animals led to altars in ancient Indo-European paganism, an act known in Latin as sacrificium- it was this ritual act, not the killing of the animal, that made the animal sacer, that is, set aside for the gods. The man declares that when Barnabas awakens he will recognize him and the woman, and that he will then lead them “to a new and everlasting life.” My wife, Mrs Acilius, and I reacted to the idea of Barnabas as a guide to enlightenment the same way every regular viewer of Dark Shadows would, viz. with gales of laughter.

Oberon and Haza sacrifice Barnabas on the cairn. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

If the hooded figures represent the force that has directed the events of this episode and Friday’s, the force that we have been promised will bring us “one of the most terrifying tales ever told,” then something that happened in them must have been a necessary precondition for the sacrifice of Barnabas. After all, that force had him under its power when he disappeared from 1897 and found himself lying on the ground. He could just as easily have materialized on the cairn, accompanied by the hooded figures with their foliage.

The only development in these two installments that would seem to be significant enough to qualify as such a precondition is Josette’s poisoning of herself. That Josette jumped to her death from Widows’ Hill is one of the most firmly established parts of the show’s continuity. Artist Sam Evans told Vicki about it in #5. In #185, a very different version of Sam saw Josette’s portrait for the first time and identified her as “the lady who went over the cliff.” In #233, Barnabas gave a vivid and rather indiscreet account of Josette’s death to Vicki and heiress Carolyn. We saw Josette make her leap in #425, and in #876 the leap was reenacted with maidservant Beth Chavez in Josette’s role and Quentin in Barnabas’. So having Josette poison herself instead of taking the jump is an example of something Dark Shadows did several times in the later phases of the 1897 segment, making a retcon into a self-conscious plot point. That leaves us with a puzzle. Why does it matter so much just how Josette went about killing herself?

Josette’s original death was a desperate flight from vampirism. It barely qualified as a suicide at all. Josette was cornered at the edge of the cliff, seeing no way but a mortal leap to escape transformation into a bloodsucking fiend. She went over the cliff in a spontaneous act that prevented the killings and enslavements that she would have inflicted on others had Barnabas succeeded in making her into the same kind of monster he was. This time, she has been keeping a vial of poison with her, so that her suicide is a premeditated act. Moreover, she drinks it when she is still alone, motivated not by a clear and present danger but by her purely intellectual, and as it so happens faulty, analysis of the situation. She still has options, and she is helping no one. So it could be that “one of the most terrifying tales ever told” is supposed to begin with the audience disapproving of Josette’s suicide on moral grounds.

This doesn’t seem very promising, but we should mention that writer Sam Hall probably did not approve of suicide. He was a churchgoer, serious enough about his Lutheran faith that he insisted Shirley Grossman convert from Judaism before they married and she became Grayson Hall. Christians have traditionally regarded despair as a sinful state and suicide as a religious offense. And Hall does seem to have been in a religious mood at this period. Lately his episodes have shown evidence that he was reading the novels of George MacDonald, a nineteenth century Congregationalist minister whose works of fantastic fiction were enormously popular in their day, but which are suffused with such a heavily Christian atmosphere that by the late 1960s their readership was a subset of that of such self-consciously Christian fans of MacDonald’s as C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, and W. H. Auden. Indeed, the three priests who hosted the podcast God and Comics admitted in a 2022 installment of their show that MacDonald’s novels reminded them a little too strongly of their day jobs to count as fun reading for them.

If Hall was feeling pious enough to keep reading MacDonald, he may well have seen Josette’s intentional and unnecessary self-poisoning as a prelude to “one of the most terrifying tales ever told.” Still, nothing we have seen so far explains just how that would work. Maybe we will find out later that Josette’s soul is in need of some kind of intervention from the other characters to avoid damnation. Lutherans aren’t supposed to think in those terms, but not even MacDonald, churchy as he was, ever let any kind of orthodoxy get between him and a good story.

Today marks the final appearance of both Millicent and the countess. It is also the last time we will visit the 1790s.

The hooded figures Barnabas meets today are identified in the credits as Oberon and Haza. Oberon, King of the Fairies, was a figure in medieval and Renaissance folklore whom Shakespeare used as a character in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Also, MacDonald mentioned Oberon occasionally in his novels. I don’t know where Hall came up with “Haza.” Bookish people pick up vocabulary items all the time, so any of the various words in the world that take that form might have popped into his head when he was writing this episode.

Oberon is played by Peter Kirk Lombard, Haza by Robin Lane. Miss Lane’s acting career seems to have peaked with her turn as Haza, but for the last six years she has been releasing videos on various platforms under the title Badass Women 50+. As of this writing, her bio on YouTube says that she is 89 years old. Until 2022, her videos ran on a cable TV service in NYC, where she was still living then and for all I can tell is still living now.

Peter Lombard died in 2015. He worked steadily on Broadway for a couple of decades. From the point of view of a Dark Shadows enthusiast, the most interesting work he did there was in the original production of 1776, a cast which also included Dark Shadows alums David Ford, Daniel F. Keyes, Emory Bass, and Virginia Vestoff. Those four were all principal members of the cast, while Lombard was a stage manager and Ken Howard’s understudy in the role of Thomas Jefferson. When the cast appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show, Howard was absent, but the part of Jefferson was played not by Lombard, but by Roy Poole. I think I can spot Lombard in the background in the costume worn by Poole’s main character, Stephen Hopkins of Rhode Island.*

The old age makeup makes it impossible to be sure, but I suspect this is Lombard as Stephen Hopkins.

Lombard bore a resemblance to Carel Struycken, the actor who played the very tall man in Twin Peaks. So much so that when I first saw this episode I was certain he was the same person. But they aren’t related. I do wonder if David Lynch or Mark Frost or casting director Johanna Ray saw this episode and had Lombard in mind when they cast Mr Struycken as “The Fireman,” who like Oberon appears unexpectedly and represents a remote and mysterious world.

*Stephen Hopkins is not only a character in 1776, but also figures in H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Strange Case of Charles Dexter Ward.” Lovecraft says that (the fictional) Joseph Curwen had been a friend and supporter of his when (the historical) Hopkins was first governor of Rhode Island, but that when Curwen was exposed as a menace Hopkins personally took part in the raid on Curwen’s place. Since the story beginning today is based on another of Lovecraft’s tales, a connection between Lombard and Stephen Hopkins qualifies as a mildly amusing coincidence.

Episode 780: Carl was not mad

In yesterday’s episode, inveterate prankster Carl Collins told his brother, the rakishly handsome Quentin, that their distant cousin Barnabas was a vampire. Quentin has problems of his own, and he is counting on Barnabas to help him. So he locked Carl up in Barnabas’ hiding place, expecting that when night came Barnabas would prune one more branch off the Collins family tree.

Today, Quentin finds that Carl has escaped. He goes to Barnabas and tells him what has happened. Carl’s practical jokes annoy Barnabas intensely, and Barnabas has never bothered to conceal his disdain for him. He reacts to Quentin’s news with fury and a lot of orders. When Quentin later finds Barnabas standing by Carl’s corpse in the drawing room of the great house of Collinwood, he is really torn up about his brother’s death for almost a whole minute.

Quentin mourns for Carl- blink and you’ll miss it. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

A knock comes at the door; it is the oppressively evil Rev’d Gregory Trask. Quentin keeps Trask in the foyer for a bit while Barnabas hides Carl’s body. When Trask forces his way into the drawing room, Barnabas is gone. Carl’s body is cunningly hidden… behind the curtains, propped upright. Of course it falls out almost immediately. Earlier in the episode, Carl took Trask to Barnabas’ hiding place, and we saw that Barnabas had single-handedly lugged his coffin and the structure on which it rests some distance away. If he is strong enough to do that, surely he could have tossed Carl’s body out the window. And regular viewers know that there is a secret panel in this room, of which Barnabas has repeatedly shown that he is well aware. They would probably have expected him to hide the body there. That he just stashes it behind the curtains where it is certain to come into Trask’s view suggests that he isn’t even trying to get away with this particular murder.

Closing Miscellany

John Karlen is breathing pretty deeply during Carl’s big closeup as a corpse. It’s really confusing, I thought they were telling us he wasn’t dead yet.

I don’t know what the writers planned for Carl in the flimsies they sketched out six months before this episode was made, though there is so little room for him in subsequent plot-lines that I suspect he was supposed to die at about this point in the story. Still, his death was accelerated because Karlen had other things to do. He won’t be back on the show until #956, in February of next year.

The creaky little waltz that Quentin listens to obsessively was released as a single in June of 1969 and would hit #13 on the Billboard Hot 100 in August. Regular viewers may be sick of it already, and the characters certainly wish Quentin would get another record. It’s Trask’s turn to complain about it today, giving him something in common with Barnabas.

Trask wears a cross which he uses as a weapon against Barnabas. The show is oddly inconsistent about the effect of the cross on vampires. We’ve seen other characters use crosses against them, and at one point it was said that a cross inside the lid of Barnabas’ coffin immobilized him. But his hiding place is in the middle of a cemetery full of grave markers in the shape of huge crosses, and we see several of them today. Barnabas just walks right past those with no problem. You might think that since the show was made in the USA, where sincerity is so highly regarded, that the cross might be effective against him only if it is wielded by the pure of heart. But Trask is every bit as evil as are Barnabas and Quentin, and it works for him. It’s a puzzlement.

In a long comment on Danny Horn’s post about this episode at Dark Shadows Every Day, I responded to a discussion about whether there is a point in thinking of Barnabas as someone possessed by demons:

I think of the climax of the Iliad. As Achilles moves in to kill Hector, Athena takes hold of his spear and drives it in, delivering the fatal wound herself.

For modern readers, this may ruin the story. The whole poem has been leading up to this moment; we’ve spent a lot of time with Achilles, listening to him try to figure out what it would mean for him to kill Hector. So why have the goddess take over at the last minute? Isn’t it an evasion of Achilles’ responsibility for his actions, and a cheat for us as we’ve been observing his psychological development?

For the original audience, it was not. They actually believed in their gods. Athena really existed, as far as they were concerned. When an event was important enough, they took a interest. If it was really huge, they would get involved. Moreover, the gods worked closely with each other. So much so that you didn’t pray to one at a time, but always to groups of them. When Athena joins Achilles in his fight, it isn’t her pushing him aside- it’s him doing something so important it blurs the boundary between human and divine.

Something like that is at work in the traditional, pre-modern, conception of demonic possession. To say that a person is possessed is a way of looking at behavior that is reducible neither to moralistic judgment nor to psychological analysis. It isn’t individualistic in the way that those modes of discourse are. Rather, it suggests that the boundaries between the person and the spiritual forces of darkness have broken down. Perhaps the person is partly to blame for that breakdown, but the whole point is that s/he is no longer a distinct being, but is merging into those supernatural forces.

So, imagine a version of Dark Shadows where Elizabeth Collins Stoddard really was the main character. Her whole approach to life is denial. So, you could have had a story with a beginning, middle, and end. In the beginning, we see the lengths she has gone to in her quest to keep from ever having to have an embarrassing conversation. In the middle, we see various horrors take place around her, each worse than the one before, each more obvious than the one before, and each time she finds a way to convince herself it doesn’t exist. At the end, a couple of innocent characters go to her in the drawing room of Collinwood to rescue her from the monsters who are running rampant there. She looks at them placidly and tells them she sees nothing wrong. Why ever do they think she would want to leave her home? All the while leathery-winged demons are fluttering about her head. She doesn’t see them, and they have no choice but to flee.

Comment left 10 November 2020 by “Acilius” on “Episode 780: The Establishment Vampire,” posted 2 December 2015 by Danny Horn at Dark Shadows Every Day

Episode 761: This is no time to try to understand anything!

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.

Mysterious stranger. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

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.

Episode 630: Held back by something that is over

Well-meaning governess Victoria Winters ran out of story at the end of #191, but they kept putting her on the show. Frustrated by her character’s uselessness, Alexandra Moltke Isles finally gave up and left Dark Shadows last week, but not even that sufficed to get the point across to its producers. Today they bring in one Betsy Durkin as a fake Shemp to postpone the character’s departure.

Vicki’s big scene today is a confrontation with suave warlock Nicholas about his plans to marry Maggie, The Nicest Girl in Town. In the course of it, Vicki says “I know you’re going to say it’s none of my business, and it isn’t. Except I’m making it my business!” In other words, Vicki has to meddle in other people’s affairs, since she is not involved in any ongoing story that the audience could possibly care about.

Vicki tells Nicholas everything she knows about him and everything she suspects, leaving the audience with no questions about what is in her mind. Nicholas points out that Maggie would laugh uproariously if Vicki repeated her speech to her. Vicki does not deny this, but nonetheless says she will to go to Maggie unless Nicholas breaks his engagement to her.

This blatantly empty threat draws a contrast between Vicki, who is powerless to change the direction of any story she might join, and mad scientist Julia, who in #619 faced Nicholas down in this same room. Julia also began by ignoring Nicholas’ display of geniality, stating the facts about his nature, and declaring her hostility. But Julia had information Nicholas didn’t have, and when she revealed it to him she knocked him off his guard and took charge of the situation. Vicki has no such cards to play, and comes out of the scene looking more foolish and helpless than ever. Considering these scenes side by side, it is no surprise that Julia has taken over as the audience’s main point-of-view character, a function Vicki served in the show’s first year.

Nicholas does not use his magical powers against Vicki, and after she leaves his house he wonders why he did not. Again the contrast with Julia shows why this is so bad for Vicki’s character. When Julia brought Nicholas news about trouble he did not know he was in, he couldn’t be sure he would not need her help to get out of it. That not only explained how she managed to get out of his house without being turned into a toadstool, it also helped cement her status as Dark Shadows’ most dynamic protagonist. But when the only explanation Nicholas can find for his failure to brush Vicki aside is that he is ceasing to be much of a villain, he is telling the audience in so many words that Vicki is not worth their time.

Nicholas decides that he really ought to do something with Vicki after all. He goes to his basement and rips the tiles out of the floor. Longtime viewers will remember #273, when the flooring in the basement of the great house of Collinwood was torn to reveal that no corpse was buried there. That brought one of the principal storylines of the show’s first year, matriarch Liz’ long seclusion in the great house, to a ridiculous anticlimax.

Now the result is rather different. Nicholas drags a coffin up out of the hole he makes in his basement floor, opens it, and exposes a body with a stake in its chest. It is the body of Tom Jennings, who became a vampire in #564 and was staked in #571. Tom’s body disappeared shortly after the staking, and Nicholas was in the area at the time, so we were warned that he may not have been truly destroyed. Today we find that Nicholas did in fact preserve Tom, when he pulls the stake out of Tom’s heart and declares himself to be his master. At the end of the episode, Vicki is in bed when Tom crawls in through her window and bares his fangs at her.

The unstaking feels like a cheat, despite the earlier warning Tom might return. It looks silly when Nicholas pulls the stake out. Vampires are important enough in the world of Dark Shadows that they really oughtn’t to be things you can turn on and off like an electric light.

Nicholas reaches for Tom’s power switch. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

But the shot of Tom crawling into Vicki’s room is pretty effective, suggesting that he is a feral beast. It makes a nice counterpoint to the scene of ex-vampire Barnabas crawling out of a cell in #616, when Barnabas was reduced to a very basic psychological condition. Barnabas disappeared after his crawl, but Don Briscoe follows Tom’s by wiggling his tongue at the camera in his final closeup, making it look like he is super-excited to drink Vicki’s blood.

Nicholas and Maggie have a funny scene. Yesterday his boss, Satan, ordered Nicholas to sacrifice Maggie in a Black Mass so that she could join him in Hell. Today, Nicholas shows her an ancient cup. He tells her it was made “before your Christ* was born.” Maybe Maggie knows Nicholas isn’t Christian, but certainly she doesn’t know that he isn’t human, much less that he is a minion of the Devil. So you might think that she would react to the bizarre formulation “your Christ,” but she doesn’t seem to pick up on it at all. When Nicholas uses the cup for a little fortune-telling trick and tells her she will have a long and happy life, she does notice that he sounds disappointed.

*The first mention of that title on the show. Dark Shadows is in a weird little quasi-Christian phase at this point.

Episode 620: The middle of the journey

They gave a number to each episode of Dark Shadows reflecting its place in broadcast order. They skipped the numbers for the days the show wasn’t on, so that episode #620 was actually the 613th episode. Fascinating, I know. Even more interesting, there were a total of 1225 episodes, making this one the exact middle of the series.

When Dark Shadows started in June 1966, its undisputed star was Joan Bennett as matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard. Describing Dark Shadows’ overall narrative structure, Bennett said “We ramble around.” At its beginning, the show was heavily atmospheric and slow paced, with stories very much aimed at an adult audience who remembered Bennett’s heyday in the 1930s and her father’s in the early twentieth century. As it developed, supernatural elements that had at the outset lurked in the background came to the fore and attracted a much younger audience. By this time, Dark Shadows is a slam-bang kid’s show with a cliffhanger at every commercial break and a cast including witches, vampires, mad scientists, and Frankenstein’s monsters. So it is appropriate that the episode at its chronological center is in a way the most unrepresentative of them all. Dark Shadows tended to go to great lengths to avoid anything that would get the audience thinking about Christianity. Yet this outing is all about the saving power of the cross.

Old world gentleman Barnabas is hiding in the long deserted west wing of the great house of Collinwood. Well-meaning governess Vicki took him there after finding him lying on the ground in the woods, grievously injured. Vicki does not know that Barnabas is the victim of a vampire, and so she does not know why he is anxious that she bring him a cross. When he sees that she has brought one, he mutters “The cross… I need it so.” He clutches it to him and tells her “I need no one but you, and nothing but this.” At the middle of the episode, he is going on about this again, saying “No one frightens me… All I need is the cross. The cross!”

When the vampire’s helper Adam comes to steal the cross from him, Barnabas exclaims “The cross! The cross, it will save us both!” Adam takes the cross back to the vampire. He offers it to her. She recoils from it and tells him to destroy it. She runs away, and he looks at it in wonder, not knowing what it is. We are left to ask if he will find out what gives the cross its power, and if learning about it will indeed bring salvation both to him and Barnabas.

Over the next few weeks, much will change on Dark Shadows. There will be major changes in the cast, several storylines will be resolved, new storylines will start, and the pacing will become more deliberate. As that goes on, the show will curve back around to something at once more reminiscent of its early days and more suggestive of what is to come than is this utterly zany period. Not that it will stop being weird- the weirdness will just be developed in greater depth over longer periods. I would say that this bizarre detour into Christian piety marks the most remote point it ever reached in its rambling away from its original concept.

Episode 523: Back to Hell, from whence thee came!

The first episode of Dark Shadows, broadcast on ABC-TV on 27 June 1966, was a moody, atmospheric Gothic drama, characterized above all by its hushed tone. For months afterward, the show was almost an essay on the theme of quietness. Now we come to the second anniversary of that premiere, and quietness is the last thing we hear.

This installment marks the final farewell of the show’s single loudest character, revenant witchfinder the Rev’d Mr Trask. In #519, Trask performed an exorcism on the witch variously known as Angelique Bouchard Collins and Cassandra Blair Collins. The exorcism seemed to be a great success; it ended with Angelique/ Cassandra vanishing into thin air, and she has not been seen since. That might have left someone watching Dark Shadows for the first time with the impression that it is a specifically Christian show and Trask is one of its heroes.

Today, they take steps to correct that impression. A man calling himself Nicholas Blair and claiming to be Angelique/ Cassandra’s brother has turned up on the great estate of Collinwood. In the basement of the Old House on the estate, he finds Trask’s skeleton. He conjures Trask up and interrogates him. Trask declares Nicholas to be a tool of the devil. Regular viewers know that this is something Trask says to all the fellas, but this time he is obviously correct. He goes into the same exorcism rite that produced such spectacular results with Angelique/ Cassandra. Nicholas simply turns around and gives him a sarcastic little round of applause. Nicholas keeps making demands of Trask. Trask takes a cross from under his cloak. Nicholas recoils from that. Trask vanishes, but his skeleton is still missing, suggesting that he has not found peace.

Trask draws his secret weapon. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

That Trask’s exorcism worked on Angelique/ Cassandra but not on Nicholas suggests that it is not a means through which God acts in the world, but is just another magical weapon that can be wielded with greater or lesser effect depending on the skill and strengths those involved. His loyalty to “THE ALMIGHTY!!!” has given Trask enough power to defeat Angelique/ Cassandra, but Nicholas ranks higher than she does in the hierarchy of “THE DE-VILLL!!!,” high enough that Trask’s mumbo-jumbo cannot reach him. The cross has its effect, but with that Trask is setting aside his own efforts and calling directly on the boss. Nicholas is quite certain that he can undo the effects of the exorcism, so for all we know, he might be able to call his own home office for help sufficient to overcome his aversion to the sign of the cross.

The show not only puts Christianity and the spiritual forces of darkness on a par as sources of magical power, they aren’t even the only such sources. Though we don’t hear about any of them today, scientists and doctors Peter Guthrie, Julia Hoffman, Eric Lang, and Timothy Eliot Stokes apparently acquired supernatural abilities along with their advanced degrees. We even know that Guthrie was a professor of psychology at Dartmouth College. So the Dartmouth Department of Psychological and Brian Sciences joins Christianity and diabolism as reservoirs of uncanny might.

In the great house on the estate, heiress Carolyn Collins Stoddard tells Nicholas that Angelique/ Cassandra alienated the Collins family by her dalliance with local attorney Tony Peterson. Nicholas goes to the village of Collinsport and calls on Tony, whom he realizes Angelique/ Cassandra ensorcelled into serving as her cat’s paw. Angelique/ Cassandra put Tony into a trance by having him strike his cigarette lighter; Nicholas achieves the same effect by opening his cigarette case. Tony really needs to stop smoking.

When he first sees Tony, Nicholas is stunned by his resemblance to Trask. They are both played by Jerry Lacy, and Angelique/ Cassandra told him that she chose him because he reminded her of her old acquaintance. We already know that there is a mystical connection between Tony and Trask; Tony was the medium through whom Trask spoke at the séance which led to his return to the world of the living. While he has Tony entranced, Nicholas extracts information from him that only Trask could have known. This suggests a notion of reincarnation that would have reminded viewers of what many of them probably thought Hindus and Buddhists believed, and would thus suggest a syncretistic approach to religion that would represent another step away from the Sunday-morning flavor that the ending of #519 might have left.

We return to the great house. Well-meaning governess Vicki opens the front door and finds her boyfriend, an unpleasant man named Peter who prefers to be called Jeff. With this, a Christian world-view is pushed still further into the background, as a scene featuring Peter/ Jeff is enough to make anyone doubt the existence of a just and loving God.

Vicki and Peter/ Jeff talk about various events that don’t have anything to do with the show. He paws her awkwardly, and his hands dart to her neck as if he were about to strangle her. While he is out of the room for a moment, Trask materializes and tries to warn Vicki that “THE DE-VILLL!!!” is nearby. Before he can tell her that it’s Nicholas she should be worried about, Peter/ Jeff comes back in and starts yelling. At the sight of Peter/ Jeff, Trask wrinkles his nose and fades into nothingness, never to be seen again. Peter/ Jeff probably got a lot of that.

Episode 519: Poor suffering servant of Satan!

Roger Collins is on the telephone in the foyer of the great house of Collinwood. He is assuring the caller that it will be fine if Maggie, whom returning viewers know to be The Nicest Girl in Town, comes to stay. He says that he and Cassandra will be glad to have her for as long as she wants to be with them, and that he is sure Liz will approve. First time viewers thus learn that Roger has a wife named Cassandra, and that they live as guests in a house belonging to someone called Liz. A moment later, Liz enters, and is too distracted to hear anything Roger says to her.

Roger ends the phone call, and follows Liz into the drawing room. She stares out the window and makes a gloomy remark about death. He says he understands she must be very upset about Sam Evans. Returning viewers know that Sam was Maggie’s father, and that he died in yesterday’s episode. Roger goes on about how it is natural to be grieved at the loss of a friend like Sam, but soon learns that Liz’ mood has nothing to do with Sam’s demise- it’s news to her that he is dead.

Roger’s lines will startle longtime viewers. For the first 40 weeks of the show, Roger and Sam were united by a deep and abiding mutual hatred, and since then they have had no contact at all. Roger’s words about Sam as a family friend are so far from what we have previously seen that they should be considered a retcon.

Liz and Roger spend several minutes in the drawing room. She keeps going on about the all-pervasive reality of death, and he keeps urging her to see a doctor. There isn’t much to their lines, but Joan Bennett and Louis Edmonds were such extraordinary screen performers that it’s always fun to watch them together. This scene might be a particular pleasure to longtime viewers, who have rarely seen Roger as the responsible adult in any encounter.

We dissolve to a bedroom where a young woman in a black wig is sifting through some powders, looking directly into the camera, and telling Liz that her obsession with death will become even worse than it already is and will have dire consequences. Liz will believe that she is someone else, a woman who lived and died in another century, and may die by the same poison that killed that person.

There is a knock at the door. It is Roger. The woman hides her powders and lets him in. He addresses her as Cassandra and asks why the door was locked. Thus first-time viewers learn that she is his wife, that this is their room, that she is a witch, and that Liz’ problem is the result of a spell she has cast.

Cassandra tells Roger that she locked the door because David kept pestering her about Sam’s death and she wanted a moment to herself. With that, first-time viewers find out that David is Roger’s son, that Cassandra is his stepmother, and that she expects Roger to consider locking him out of the room an appropriate response to his grief about Sam.

Roger does not so consider it, and is bewildered by what Cassandra tells him. He tells Cassandra that Liz is in a bad way, and he is worried about her. Cassandra says she did not know that Roger was so concerned about his family. Baffled by this, Roger says that of course he is concerned, Liz is his sister. This tells first time viewers both what Roger’s relationship to Liz is, and that Cassandra has so little sense of family that she cannot imagine how other people feel.

Regular viewers will learn more. In the first year of the show, Roger’s keynote was his lack of loyalty to the family. That has now been set aside once and for all, and his normal attachment to his son and his sister provide a contrast with Cassandra’s apparently sociopathic coldness. Further, we saw a great deal of Cassandra from November 1967 through March 1968, when the show was a costume drama set in the 1790s and she was called Angelique. We saw then that Angelique had no conception of family or friendship, and that her idea of love begins and ends with her control over a person.

Cassandra promises to join Roger downstairs for a game of bridge in half an hour. He leaves, and she gets back to work spellcasting. As she does so, a figure in a black cassock materializes behind her. She turns, and the figure vanishes. In a quizzical tone, she says Roger’s name, revealing that she did not see the figure or realize that it is a supernatural presence. Together with her locking the door, scrambling to hide her magical paraphernalia when Roger knocked, lying to cover what she was doing, and failing to understand what a person with a reasonable amount of human empathy would consider acceptable behavior, her puzzlement shows that whatever her powers may be, they have definite limits.

Back in the foyer, another young woman with black hair lets a man into the house. She calls him Joe, and he calls her Vicki. Joe and Vicki talk about Sam’s death and about Maggie. Joe says that he wants to marry Maggie as soon as possible and to move away. Vicki is all for their marriage, but does not want them to go. Joe talks about how close he and Sam were. Longtime viewers will remember that when Sam and Roger were enemies, Sam was the town drunk. Even then, Joe was always happy to help him in whatever way he could, and did not see his condition as any obstacle to marrying Maggie.

Liz enters and angrily addresses Joe as “Lieutenant Forbes.” Joe has never heard of Lieutenant Forbes, and cannot understand why Liz, who knows him well, would not recognize him. Vicki clearly does know who Liz is talking about, and manages to calm her down. After Liz apologizes and hastens away, Vicki answers Joe’s questions only by saying that Forbes is someone from “the past.” Since we heard Cassandra talk about Liz taking on the personality of someone who lived in “another century,” this suggests that Vicki, too, has an unnatural familiarity with that same century.

Joe wants to go upstairs to the room where Maggie is sleeping so that he will be the first person she sees when she wakes up. Vicki is about to lead him to Maggie when Cassandra insists she join her in the drawing room to talk about David. Vicki tells Joe which door to open, and complies with Cassandra’s directions. This shows that Vicki is a member of the household staff whose responsibilities have to do with David. Regular viewers know that she is his governess, and that they are very close.

Cassandra tells Vicki that David has been asking about Sam’s last words. Vicki says that he addressed them to Maggie, not to her, and implies that she did not hear them. When Cassandra continues probing, Vicki protests. She asks if Cassandra can’t see that she is upset. Considering how clueless Cassandra was about human feelings in her conversation with Roger, it is entirely possible that she cannot. Vicki tells her that Liz is deeply depressed; Cassandra feigns ignorance. Vicki says in a cold voice, “You wouldn’t know anything about that,” then leaves.

Longtime viewers know that it was Vicki who came unstuck in time in #365 and took us with her to the 1790s. During her nineteen weeks in the past, Vicki came to know not only Forbes, but Angelique. She knows perfectly well that Angelique and Cassandra are the same person, that she is a witch, and that she is a deadly menace to everyone. She likely suspects that Liz’ depression is the consequence of one of Cassandra’s spells, and the tone of her parting remark would suggest that she does. Further, those who saw the show yesterday know that Vicki is lying about Sam’s last words. They were addressed to her, and she heard them clearly. She is choosing not to repeat them to Cassandra lest Cassandra use them for her nefarious purposes.

Cassandra is alone in the drawing room for only a few seconds. She is joined there by the same figure who had appeared in her room. This time she sees him. He confronts her.

Regular viewers know that the figure is the Rev’d Mr Trask, a fanatical witchfinder who mistook Vicki for the witch in the 1790s and sent her to the gallows. He tells Cassandra that he now has the opportunity to correct that error. He shows her a cross, from which she recoils. We cut to a scene in the woods. Trask has tied Cassandra to a tree and performs an exorcism on her. This is Trask’s go-to technique; he tied Vicki to a tree in #385 and performed an exorcism on her in #386. Since Cassandra actually is in league with the devil (or as Trask would say, THE DE-VILLL!!!,) he has more success this time. Cassandra vanishes and leaves the ropes hanging on the tree.

Trask exorcises Cassandra. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

A first-time viewer might take this climax as an indication that Dark Shadows is a Christian show and Trask is its hero. Not only is Trask going after the right target, he is clearly making some headway. He says all the right things about casting the evil out of Cassandra and saving whatever good is left in her. His delivery of his lines is so fervent that Mrs Acilius, a vigorous Christian, cheered him on. In fact, Trask’s wild incompetence throughout the 1790s segment led to one disaster after another, and was of a piece with the show’s light regard for religion. Not until #450 did a cross provoke a reaction from a monster; that was the first suggestion the show gave that there might be anything to Christianity, and the scenes between Cassandra and Trask today are the second.

Dark Shadows borrows story points freely from all sorts of books, plays, movies, and folklore. So far, it has steered clear of Christianity as a source. For obvious reasons- most of the audience is at least nominally Christian, and Christianity is, in one way or another, a live option for the rest. So it’s a topic that can take over very quickly once it is introduced. I suppose a specifically Christian version of Dark Shadows could have worked, but I can’t imagine that the staff they had would have been particularly interested in making a show like that. So when it looks like they are going to let Trask have even a temporary win, we see the show running one of its boldest risks yet.