continuity – Dark Shadows Commentary

Episode 873: Charming and exquisitely dangerous

In October 1897, sorcerer Count Petofi has used his magical powers to swap bodies with Quentin Collins. I refer to the villainous Petofi who looks like Quentin as Q-Petofi, and to the forlorn Quentin who looks like Petofi as P-Quentin.

We open with Q-Petofi meditating on a lineup of I Ching wands. He goes into a trance which unlocks a cosmic force that transports him to the great house of Collinwood in 1969. He wanders into the drawing room, finds a newspaper dated 28 October of that year, and starts exulting. Maggie Evans, governess in the great house in the late 60s, hears him and comes downstairs.

As the segment of Dark Shadows set in 1897 winds down, we’ve been thinking of ways they might have moved forward. Some of the possibilities involve splitting the week between episodes set in 1897 and others set in 1969. Maggie has been on the show from episode #1, and has been central to several of the storylines that take place in contemporary dress. The last of these stories before the move to 1897 centered on Quentin’s malevolent ghost haunting Collinwood and making it impossible for anyone to live there. In the course of that, he appeared to Maggie several times. In #682, Maggie had a dream in which Quentin’s ghost strangled her to death. Though the events we have seen in 1897 have changed the future, we saw in #839 that the 1960s characters remember Quentin’s haunting. So when Maggie is on her way to meet someone who is to all outward appearances Quentin, we have a hint that a story might be brewing in which Q-Petofi finds himself carrying the can for all of the horrors Quentin’s ghost wrought between December 1968 and September 1969.

Alas, it is not to be. By the time Maggie reaches the drawing room, Q-Petofi has vanished. A few moments after he left 1897, maidservant Beth scattered the wands and brought him back. He is furious when he comes to, and she explains that she had to do it. The magical portrait that keeps Quentin, and presumably also Q-Petofi, from becoming a werewolf is not in the suitcase Q-Petofi gave her earlier in the evening to bury. Q-Petofi has been in possession of Quentin’s body and of his portrait for weeks, and he has vast powers of sorcery, so you’d think he would have hidden the portrait long before. His magic powers would seem to give him the ability to do anything at all to hide it. My favorite idea is that he would impose onto Quentin’s portrait an exact copy of the portrait that hangs above the mantel in the drawing room of the great house and hang it in its place, so that it would be hidden in plain sight for years to come.

Besides, if Q-Petofi was going to bury the portrait surely he would at least have put it in something airtight and made of metal, not a wooden suitcase that doesn’t close all the way and that will likely rot to dust in a year or two. Apparently he isn’t as big on long-term plans as he led us to believe when he claimed he was working on a design to become the ruler of the cosmos.

Q-Petofi orders Beth to bring Pansy Faye, a deceased Cockney showgirl/ mentalist who has for some time been inhabiting the body once occupied by the stunningly dreary Charity Trask, to Quentin’s room at Collinwood. He demands information which she refuses to give. She storms out.

Pansy has a dream in which she and Quentin dance in the drawing room of Collinwood while a specially recorded version of her song, I Wanna Dance for You, featuring the voices of Nancy Barrett and David Selby, plays in the background. Colors flare on the screen while we hear them sing. Miss Barrett was an excellent singer, Mr Selby an adequate one. He does speak a few of his lines, which damages the rhythm of the song, and the flaring colors often obscure the actors completely. Mr Selby and Miss Barrett are so lovable that we very much want to overlook these flaws in the number’s conception.

The dream ends with Quentin turning into Petofi and laughing evilly at Pansy. She awakes in horror. She has known for some days that Q-Petofi isn’t Quentin, and she knows enough about Petofi that it is strange she hasn’t already figured out that he is the one hiding inside his body. But when she sits up with a gasp, we know that she has finally put it all together.

Time-traveler Barnabas Collins, a recovering vampire, meets Q-Petofi in the drawing room at Collinwood. Q-Petofi is convinced that Barnabas stole the portrait of Quentin, and is very aggressive about pressing his suspicions. Barnabas has been playing dumb ever since his vampirism went into remission, but after a couple of minutes of Q-Petofi’s hectoring he addresses him as “Count Petofi.” When Barnabas cannot tell him what he wants to hear, Q-Petofi declares that he will restore the vampire curse to its full potency. He touches Barnabas’ forehead with the right hand in which his powers are concentrated. Barnabas squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, then opens them with a look of triumph. He asks Q-Petofi what has become of his powers.

The rest of the episode revolves around yet another possessed person. Kitty Soames, a young American woman who is the dowager countess of Hampshire, is also Josette DuPrés, who plunged to her death from the cliff at Widow’s Hill 101 years before. Barnabas was supposed to marry Josette at one point, and he has been obsessed with recreating her ever since.

In May and June of 1967, when the show was set in the present, Barnabas abducted Maggie and tried to brainwash her into becoming Josette. In those days, the show was ambiguous about why Barnabas picked Maggie. Strange and troubled boy David Collins was an intimate friend of Josette’s ghost, and when he saw Maggie in Josette’s dress in #240 and #241, he thought she was Josette, looking just as she always did. Indeed, Miss Scott had played the ghost a few times, always behind a veil. When Barnabas was about to give up on Maggie in #260 he very earnestly told her “But you are Josette!” Yet after Maggie escaped, he picked another girl and planned to repeat the experiment with her, explaining to his sorely-bedraggled blood thrall Willie in #274 that all you have to do is “Take the right individual, place her under the proper conditions and circumstances, apply the required pressure, and a new personality is created.”

But when the show made its first trip back in time, visiting the 1790s from November 1967 to March 1968, Kathryn Leigh Scott played Josette. That was a bold move. Longtime viewers were left with the uncomfortable feeling that Barnabas may have had a point when he devised the horrifying program of torture that made the show so terribly bleak for several weeks. When we see Miss Scott playing Kitty, who really is Josette and really does have to accept that fact, longtime viewers can only squirm as they remember Barnabas shoving Maggie into his old coffin and later walking down the long gray corridors of his basement on his way to the prison cell where he was going to murder her. We’ve since come to know Barnabas as an endearingly ineffectual comic villain, but it is a stretch to remind us of him as he was in those grim days and ask us to concede that he was in any sense right.

Kitty confronts Barnabas at Collinwood and accuses him of orchestrating her Josettifying psychosis. He denies that he is responsible, and claims to know that Josette’s spirit lives in her and that she ought to yield to it. When she asks how he knows, he makes up a story about being a boy in England, falling in love with a portrait of Josette, and reading her diaries. She is unconvinced.

Later, Josette goes to P-Quentin in Petofi’s old squat, the abandoned mill on the North Road. She believes he is Petofi, and asks him to use his power to resolve her identity crisis. He tries to explain that he only looks like Petofi, and has none of his power, but she refuses to believe him. Having nothing to lose, he decides to play along. He tells the right hand to tell Kitty the truth about herself, and touches her forehead. She suddenly realizes that she is both Josette and Kitty. P-Quentin just as suddenly realizes that Petofi’s power has returned to the body in which he is now an unwilling tenant.

Kitty/ Josette keeps telling P-Quentin that she remembers what he was able to do with his right hand when he was staying with her and her late husband in England a few years before. This is a pretty bad continuity error. For eight weeks from #778, the most dynamic story on the show centered on the fact that Petofi’s hand was cut off in 1797 and kept in a box by a Romani tribe for the hundred years since, until broad ethnic stereotype Magda Rákóczi stole it in an attempt to lift the werewolf curse from Quentin. It was only in #815, in August, that Petofi reattached his hand and with it regained the bulk of his power. Granted, #815 is eleven and a half weeks ago, but the show now takes so little time to onboard new viewers by recapping that the writers are clearly counting on the audience to have a great deal of information about the story so far in their heads. As such, it is very surprising that they would break from established continuity on such a major point of the recent months.

Episode 741: Death certificate follows

In its early months, Dark Shadows was set in contemporary times, and from December 1966 to March 1967 undead blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins was its first supernatural menace. Now it is a costume drama set in 1897, and another version of Laura is on the show.

Well-meaning time-traveler/ bloodsucking ghoul Barnabas Collins recognized Laura from their acquaintance in the eighteenth century. Barnabas has taken it upon himself to engage Laura in battle, for no apparent reason. The scripts have also been hard to explain. At moments, they have dug deep into the old stories. So today, Laura orders ethnic stereotype Magda Rákóczi to take a portrait of her and burn it in the fireplace. Magda tells her to burn it herself, and Laura says she cannot. In her first tour of duty on the show, Laura was distressed to find herself depicted in a couple of portraits, which she was relieved to have burned. Late in the episode, a telegram comes from the authorities in Alexandria, Egypt, providing official documentation that Laura died there the year before. This echoes the police reports that kept coming to Collinsport from Phoenix, Arizona, substantiating a story that Laura had died in that city in 1966. And yesterday and today, we see Barnabas and his henchman Sandor on virtually the same set that Laura’s adversaries visited in 1967 when they looked for the tomb of her eighteenth century incarnation, and like them they open that tomb and find the coffin empty.

Laura spies on Barnabas and Sandor in the crypt. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

At other times, they deviate sharply from the old continuity. It was hugely important the first time that Laura’s previous dates of death were 1767 and 1867. Now they’ve changed that first date to 1785. That one is explicable as part of a doomed effort to pretend that actor Jonathan Frid was the age one would expect him to be, considering that he had somehow become a teen idol. Originally, Laura had married into a different prominent family in the Collinsport area with each incarnation. Now she always marries a Collins. That is also easy to explain. Dark Shadows has failed to develop any other prominent families, even as names of people we never see, so if she’s going to marry a rich guy the Collinses are the only game in town.

Another retcon is introduced today that is really hard to make sense of. The main thing about Laura in 1966 and 1967 was that each time she appeared, she had a son, named him David, and when he was about nine years old she incinerated herself with him so that she, but not he, would rise from the ashes as a humanoid Phoenix. In this episode, Barnabas declares that the Laura who died by fire in 1785 “had no children!”

This not only blows up the continuity completely, it also renders Barnabas’ insistence on making an enemy of Laura unintelligible. He has come to the past as part of an effort to prevent curses and hauntings that will make life impossible for everyone on the estate of Collinwood in 1969. The Laura of 1897 is the mother of Jamison Collins, a boy who will become the father of the adults at Collinwood in the 1960s. If Barnabas knew that Laura represented a danger to Jamison, we could understand his motive in undertaking this side-quest, even though his tactics would still be obviously self-defeating. But they kick that explanation away when Barnabas announces that the Laura he knew was childless. It seems they must have made a deliberate decision to deny any rational foundation for Barnabas’ behavior.

It’s true that they have established that Laura represents a danger, and that Barnabas is clearly the chief protagonist. Therefore, we expect the two of them to have a showdown sooner or later, and we might not notice if it isn’t really explained just how the two of them got on the path that leads to the climax. That would explain why they don’t wade into all the details they spent time on at the beginning of 1967. But there is no reason for them to do that. All they need are a few lines here and there affirming that the previous Lauras took their children into the flames with them, and it’s all settled. The decision to retcon David Stockbridge away really is bizarre.

Episode 706: What it was to be a Collins

Yesterday, we were in the great house on the estate of Collinwood when dying nonagenarian Edith Collins met mysterious newcomer Barnabas Collins. She told Barnabas that she recognized him. Edith had been entrusted with the Collins family’s darkest secret, which was about Barnabas. He is a vampire, entombed in the 1790s to be kept forever away from the living. Now it is 1897, and Edith sees that the family has failed. She must tell the secret to her eldest grandchild, Edward Collins. Edward comes into the room and Edith tries to tell him what has happened. She has difficulty speaking. Edward asks Barnabas to excuse them. He replies “Of course,” and leaves the room. He does stand at the door and listen to their conversation, apparently waiting to see if Edward will come out with a crucifix and a sharpened stake.

Today, we find that Edith was so shocked by the sight of Barnabas that she has lost her sense of her surroundings. Barnabas was kept in a chained coffin in an old family mausoleum, and Edith does manage to say the word “mausoleum” to Edward, but that’s as far as she gets with the secret. Thereafter, she weaves in and out of the moment, reliving several periods of her life, some as far back as the time of her wedding to Edward’s grandfather.

At the word “mausoleum,” Barnabas rushes back to the Old House on the estate, where he has been staying. He tells his unwilling servant, a woman named Magda Rákóczi, that she must fetch her husband Sandor and that she and Sandor must go to the mausoleum at once, take the coffin out of the secret chamber where it is hidden, leave no trace of any kind in the chamber, and carry the coffin to the house. Magda points out one of several facts that make it impossible to comply with these orders, which is that Sandor is in town where Barnabas sent him. Barnabas refuses to acknowledge this or any other insuperable difficulties, and goes back to the great house.

While Barnabas is sitting in the drawing room clenching his fists on the armchair where he is waiting to see what Edward will do when he learns that he is a vampire, a hidden panel opens and a man carries a pistol into the room. The man holds the pistol at Barnabas’ head and demands he tells him who he really is. The man identifies himself as Carl Collins, one of Edward’s brothers. Barnabas yields nothing. The man discharges the pistol, from which emerges a flag labeled “Fib.” He laughs. Barnabas is not amused. The audience may not share Carl’s sense of humor either, but the subsequent scene in which Carl claims to see that Barnabas has a kind face, predicts that the two of them will become close friends, and offers to let him borrow the pistol and play jokes with it himself, is hilarious. Jonathan Frid plays Barnabas’ icy reaction to Carl perfectly, and as Carl John Karlen does not betray the least glimmer of awareness of Barnabas’ affect.

Barnabas does not enjoy Carl’s greeting. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Carl goes to the Old House to call on Magda. The scene there begins with Magda showing her palm to Carl. He wants her to read the Tarot cards; she says the cards will not speak unless she has money in her hand. Like his siblings, Carl is convinced that the secret which Edith keeps and which she has vowed to disclose only to Edward is the key to control of the family fortune. Magda knows better, but she goes through the cards anyway. They tell her that the family’s fortune is even larger than anyone knows, that when Edith’s will is found it will come as a surprise to everyone, that the surprise will lead to murder, and that the person who inherits the money will not keep it. The Queen of Cups turns up in a position that indicates Edith is still in control, but the last card Magda draws leads her to gasp and stand. She reels about the room, and declares that Edith is dead. “The cards are silent.”

Back in the house, Edward lets Barnabas into Edith’s room. He closes his grandmother’s eyes, and tells Barnabas that she did not tell him the secret. He vows to learn the secret even “if it’s the last thing I do!” We cut to Barnabas, looking uncomfortable. No doubt he is thinking of how inconvenient it would be if Edward were to find out the secret and he had to see to it that it was indeed the last thing he ever did.

This is the sixth consecutive installment to which I have given the “Genuinely Good Episode” tag, a record so far. Like the preceding five, it is stuffed with wonderful things. The acting is all very very good. Isabella Hoopes does a marvelous job as the delirious Edith, as Edward Louis Edmonds gives a master class in how to play a stuffy man, and the pairings of Grayson Hall, John Karlen, and Jonathan Frid with each other all unfold brilliantly, full of laughs but never losing their dramatic tension. So many of the episodes fans most enjoy would be drab for people coming to the show for the first time that it is always a memorable occasion when we see one like this, that anyone should be able to recognize as an outstanding half hour of television. It’s true the visual side lets us down a little; even by the standards of 1960s daytime television, the color is murky and there are too many closeups. But Sam Hall’s script and the performances are so good that no fair-minded person will complain very much about those problems.

Fans will take a special interest in Edith’s ramblings. When it first aired, viewers had no way of knowing how much of what she says about the family’s history will be reflected in upcoming episodes. The writers themselves probably didn’t have a much clearer idea about that than we do. But watching the series through for the first time, our default assumption about each of her lines is that it will have some significance as we go, so if we are committed to watching the show we listen closely.

We’ve already learned that Edith is over 90, so the very latest she could have been born is 1807. More likely she was born a bit before that, sometime between 1801 and 1806. She says today that her father-in-law was Daniel Collins. From November 1967 to March 1968, Dark Shadows was set in the late 1790s, and we saw Daniel. He was about 11 in 1795, so he would have been born in 1784 or thereabouts. So he could have been no more than 23 years old when Edith was born. Presumably his son Gabriel was the same age as his bride, though he might have been significantly younger. Edith does say that she always hated Daniel; perhaps she was a good deal older than Gabriel, and Daniel disapproved of her initially for that reason.

Edith tells us that Gabriel has been dead for 34 years, placing his death date in late 1862 or early 1863. She does not mention his cause of death or say anything about their son who was the father of Edward, Carl, and the others. It is firmly fixed that Edward and Carl’s brother Quentin was born in 1870, so Gabriel’s son must have survived him by several years.*

Edith says several times that the secret has been passed down from generation to generation and that she must tell it to Edward because he is the oldest. That seems to imply that Daniel told his oldest child, whom we presume to have been Gabriel, and that Gabriel told his oldest child, whom we presume to have been the unnamed father of Edith’s four grandchildren. He would then have told Edith before he died, either because Edward was not yet old enough to hear it, or because he was not available at the time.

But that implication is not at all secure. Edith says that Edward must be the keeper of the secret because he is the oldest- she doesn’t say what the connection is between being the oldest and keeping the secret. For all we know, she could have decided on her own to invent that tradition, starting with Edward and continuing with Edward’s oldest child. And when she says that it was passed down from generation to generation, she does not specify how many generations have been involved or which member of each generation did the passing. All we know is that someone of one generation learned it from someone else of a different generation, and that Edith believes it is the family’s responsibility to keep Barnabas from preying upon the living.

In a comment on Danny Horn’s post about episode 705 on Dark Shadows Every Day, someone calling himself “Mike” had a very interesting theory:

I think it’s reasonable to assume that sometime between 1897 and 1967 the secret was lost and not continually passed down. Perhaps in the original timeline Quentin was successful in killing Edith before Edward arrived, or maybe Edward died later in life before he was able to pass it on.

As far as Joshua passing the secret on, maybe he did, or maybe it was the elderly Ben Stokes who started the tradition?

Joshua was Barnabas’ father, and Ben Stokes was a much-put-upon indentured servant who was Barnabas’ devoted friend. They were the two people who knew that Barnabas was a vampire and that he was entombed in the secret chamber of the mausoleum. I replied to “Mike”:

I love that idea. Edith’s desire to tell the oldest son may lead us to assume that it has been handed down to the oldest son generation after generation, and it does lead the “Fab Four”** to assume that it brings with it some kind of power and access to riches. But their assumption is wrong, and ours may also be. Perhaps Joshua never told anyone. Perhaps the first person to tell the secret was Ben Stokes, and the person he told was Edith.

The scene between Barnabas and Magda brought another question to my mind. In #334, Barnabas was able to lock the panel in the mausoleum that leads to the secret room. Why doesn’t he just do that? It has also been made clear that as a vampire he is far stronger than are humans- if he wants to move the coffin from the mausoleum to the Old House, surely he could pick it up himself and do it more quickly and with less risk of detection than could Magda and Sandor. My wife, Mrs Acilius, agrees that we don’t know why Barnabas doesn’t lock the panel, but she says that it is perfectly clear why he can’t move the coffin- that is manual labor, and he is an aristocrat. His servants must do that.

*In a later episode, Quentin will mention that he knew Gabriel, throwing the 1862/3 date into question. But they never get around to any stories that depend on anything that happened in Gabriel’s later years. By the time we get to that one, only obsessive fans will remember his name. Eventually we meet two characters named Gabriel Collins, one in episodes that will air in 1970 and the other in the 1971 film Night of Dark Shadows, but a death date in the 1860s is not relevant to anything we learn about either of them.

**The “Fab Four” are Edith’s grandchildren, Edward, Carl, Quentin, and their sister Judith.

Episode 674: When there is a moon

Heiress Carolyn Collins Stoddard is attracted to mysterious drifter Chris Jennings, so much so that she has set Chris up in the caretaker’s cottage on the estate of Collinwood. Today, Carolyn’s friend Donna Friedlander is visiting her. The day’s main action is a classic farce plot. Donna wants Chris to drive her home to Bangor, Maine, but in order to keep a secret from her he makes a series of increasingly frantic attempts to avoid doing so. In the end Donna doesn’t get her ride, and Chris doesn’t keep his secret.

The episode deviates from the typical farce in that Chris is not a man trying to keep his or his roommate’s girlfriends from finding out about each other. He is a werewolf, and the Moon is full. If Donna is with him after dark, he will kill her, as he has already killed an unknown number of people in the last several years.

Donna is a student of interior design, and Carolyn is showing her around the great house. We first see her when Carolyn brings her into the study. Chris is in the room with his sister, nine year old Amy, who has been staying at the great house. Chris is distracted, abrupt, and rude with Donna. His manner grows even less inviting when he sees an inverted red pentagram on Carolyn’s face, typically the sign that the person will be the werewolf’s next victim. His eyes bug out, he breaks into a sweat, and turns his back on the ladies, stalking off to stare out the window.

Donna and Carolyn leave the room. In the hallway outside the study, Donna exclaims “Wow!” and exhales as if she were very worked up. She tells Carolyn that Chris is her type. She summarizes that type as “moody”; a more fitting description of what Donna saw of Chris’ behavior would be “not interested,” but hey, I’m not the sex police. If Donna gets excited by foul-tempered guys who ignore her and want her to go away, that’s none of my business.

The little space in which Donna tells Carolyn she is attracted to Chris is a new set. We’ve been seeing a lot more of these tiny nondescript corners representing hallways lately, and Donna’s identification with interior design makes us conscious of this one. In #664, they even had actors walk from one set to another through some undecorated studio space that they tried to persuade us was a corridor. It seems they are developing a strategy to make us feel that the great house is a bigger place than they have managed to create in our minds just by cutting from one room to another.

Complicating matters for Chris are old world gentleman Barnabas Collins and mad scientist Julia Hoffman. Barnabas has figured out that Chris is the werewolf, and today explains this to Julia.

Barnabas uses the word “werewolf” as he is bringing Julia up to date. This represents a departure from the show’s previous practice. Barnabas was himself a vampire when he first came on the show in #211, but they didn’t use the word “vampire” for 40 weeks, until #410. They aren’t afraid of vocabulary anymore.

Julia doubts Barnabas’ interpretation of the facts, and he decides to demonstrate his thesis by putting Chris in an awkward position. He invites Chris, Carolyn, and Donna to join him and Julia for dinner at his home, the Old House on the estate. Chris excuses himself by claiming to have a business meeting in Bangor for which he must leave at once. At this, Donna asks for a ride to that town. Barnabas watches Chris’ discomfort with a smug grin, confident that he is being proven right.

Outside the front door of the great house, Chris tries to wriggle out of giving Donna a ride by saying that now he is getting a migraine and will have to cancel his meeting. He offers to give Donna his keys, suggesting she hide them under the front seat when she parks his car at the bus station in Bangor. She initially accepts this, but later comes to the cottage to say she has decided against it. She is there when he transforms, and runs away.

Back in the great house, Barnabas is telling Julia that werewolves are vulnerable to silver weapons, so he will be able to use the head of his cane to control Chris. Julia wonders if Chris may already have left with Donna. Barnabas airily dismisses this, assuring her that he knows Chris well enough to be sure that Donna is perfectly safe. In fact, Barnabas barely knows Chris at all, but he is so pleased with himself for having figured out who the werewolf is that we can see there wouldn’t be much point in reminding him of this. At his leisure, Barnabas sets out for the cottage, which he finds to be unoccupied and in disarray. Donna’s mauled corpse lies in the woods nearby.

We might wonder why Chris saw the pentagram on Carolyn and not on Donna during the scene in the study. Is the show telling us the pentagram is out of order as a warning system? If so, is it just breaking down from overuse, or is some other supernatural presence interfering with it? Or maybe it isn’t automatic, but is a message from some spirit that has guessed wrong this time? They don’t explain, and the pentagram has been a big enough part of the werewolf story up to this point that it produces a lot more confusion than you might expect.

Yesterday’s episode ended with a bewildered Chris finding Amy in the cottage. Amy was listening to a mysterious voice Chris could not hear. Chris’ bewilderment deepened when Amy obeyed the voice’s command to hurry away. He finally discovered that Amy lit a fire in his hearth and burned a shirt of his in it. Chris took us to the final blackout holding the scorched remains of his shirt, giving a look in the direction Amy had fled, and exclaiming “My shirt!” in a pained voice that would make anyone laugh.

Today’s episode opens with a reprise of that interaction, but it is played very differently. Instead of a light scene that ends with a note of comedy, we have a heavier confrontation that builds to a melodramatic shock. Chris is alarmed, not bewildered, to find Amy in his cottage, and his alarm mounts when she responds to the mysterious voice. When he goes to the hearth, he is forceful, apparently angry. He still exclaims “My shirt!” even though the wardrobe department did not provide a shirt, but his voice is not the high-pitched, defeated squawk that had made the end of yesterday’s installment so funny. This is a full-throated baritone shout. The more serious tone of the scene sets us up for an outing that is technically a comedy and is at several turns quite funny, but that finally concerns itself with a matter of life and death.

Donna is played by Beverly Hayes, in her only appearance on Dark Shadows. Miss Hayes’ IMDb page tells us that for a few months in 1965 she was a regular on a soap called A Flame in the Wind, that in 1968 and 1969 she had a recurring part on The Secret Storm, and that after her one shot on Dark Shadows she was absent from the screen for 41 years, returning in a 2010 production called Marathon. Since then she has been in other little-known independent films, including something from 2015 called House of Shadows, which sounds suspiciously like an imitation of Dark Shadows. She also has some writing credits. Donna is perfect as a one-shot, but Miss Hayes does such a good job with her I wish they’d cast her in other roles later on.

Episode 665: Burn, witch, burn!

Vampire Barnabas Collins has traveled back in time to the year 1796 in order to save well-meaning governess Vicki Winters from being hanged. To his disappointment, she was hanged yesterday, and now appears to be dead. The audience knows that wicked witch Angelique intervened so that Vicki would survive the hanging and appear to be dead so that she can be buried alive. Angelique explains at the beginning of today’s episode that she will lift the spell once Vicki is in the ground so that she can die a slow, painful, terrifying death.

When Barnabas left 1969 on his mission of mercy, matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard had been dealing with the effects of a curse Angelique cast on her in 1968 that caused her to be obsessed with a fear of being buried alive. In fact, Liz appeared to have died, and was in a coffin. That story was unexciting when it was introduced, and had been dragging on for months and months.

Regular viewers may sigh when they see that Angelique is still hung up on the idea of live burial, but this time the whole thing moves very swiftly. Angelique goes to Barnabas in the tower room of the great house of Collinwood. She tells him Vicki is still alive and that if he goes away with her she will save her. He disbelieves her, and signals his servant Ben to rush in with a burning torch and immolate Angelique. Lara Parker enjoys the part of the burning Angelique so hugely that I laughed out loud watching it, but that didn’t detract from the episode. On the contrary, the joy Parker took in performance was one of the most appealing things about her.

Angelique’s dying screams attract the attention of a long-term guest in the house, the Countess DuPrés. The countess goes to the tower room to investigate, and catches sight of Barnabas. The countess had seen Barnabas die, and is shocked that he appears to be alive. She talks with perpetually confused heiress Millicent Collins, who has also seen Barnabas and who has discussed him with her husband, roguish naval officer Nathan Forbes. The countess gathers from what Millicent says that Barnabas is a vampire. This doesn’t quite fit with the previously established continuity- Barnabas returned to a night sometime after the events of episodes 449-451, when the countess helped Barnabas’ father Joshua in an effort to free Barnabas of his curse. It seems rather unlikely that it would slip the countess’ mind that Barnabas is a vampire. At any rate, this time she vows to destroy him at the first opportunity.

When Angelique is destroyed, her spell is broken and Vicki revives. Barnabas goes to the drawing room of the great house and is astounded that Vicki is alive. We may wonder if he would have gone away with Angelique had he known she was telling the truth when she said Vicki was not really dead. He urges Vicki and her boyfriend, the irksome Peter Bradford, to go away as quickly as possible, as far as possible. Vicki asks for a few seconds alone with Barnabas; Peter leaves them, and she tells Barnabas that she will always feel close to him. She gives him a little kiss, and rushes off. Barnabas was hung up on Vicki for a long time; his facial expression as he watches her leave with another man suggests that he has for the first time managed to perform a selfless act. It’s a lovely moment. I only wish Vicki had been played by Alexandra Moltke Isles, who played the part for the first 126 weeks of Dark Shadows, instead of Carolyn Groves. Miss Groves wasn’t a bad actress, but if the goal is to give the character some kind of closure it is unsatisfying to see her as someone who only had the part for three episodes as opposed to the person who was there in 335.

Barnabas sees that the time has come to return to 1969. Ben does not know that Barnabas has traveled through time; as far as he knows, he was there all along. But when Barnabas announces he will be leaving, Ben insists on following him. Ben stands by and watches while Barnabas stands in a graveyard and calls out to his friend Julia. Ben does not know who Julia is, any more than he knows that Barnabas was standing on this same spot in #661 when he left 1969. Neither he nor Barnabas knows that the countess and Millicent are spying on them from the bushes.

Barnabas keeps calling out to Julia, but nothing happens. Barnabas decides that he will have to make the trip to the 1960s the same way he did before- as a vampire chained in a coffin hidden in the secret room of the Collins family mausoleum. He takes Ben to that room, and tells him to chain the coffin up after dawn. He tells him they will never see each other again. In its own way, this farewell is as poignant as the one Barnabas shared with Vicki. It is also shadowed with menace, as we see the countess and Millicent still watching.

The next morning, the countess comes to the mausoleum with Nathan. It is a bit puzzling to see Nathan. The night before, Barnabas bit Nathan and forced him to confess to many serious crimes; we last saw him in gaol. Yet here he is, not only free but wearing his federal coat with officer’s braid. The countess says that she got him out of gaol to stake Barnabas. Even in Soap Opera Land, this is a bit of a stretch. It’s an even bigger stretch that, having been under Barnabas’ power, Nathan is now able to stake him.

Nathan is holding the stake over Barnabas’ heart and raising the hammer when the lights go down. We hear a loud bang, and the episode ends.

In his post about this one at the Collinsport Historical Society, Patrick McCray outlines its slam-bang plot, full of sudden reversals and poignant farewells. Patrick does such a great job of capturing the verve and joy of this Genuinely Good Episode that I wondered whether I should even bother writing a post about it. At the opposite extreme, Danny Horn’s post on Dark Shadows Every Day was so full of irritable complaints about continuity problems and other imperfections in Ron Sproat’s script that I was inclined to write a long and impassioned defense.

But I will leave the debate to the two of them. I’ll just say that if anyone is curious about what Dark Shadows is like and wants to watch a single episode to get the flavor of the thing, this would be as good a choice as any.

Episode 576: Enough to occupy your mind

Well-meaning governess Vicki is engaged to marry an unpleasant man named Peter who prefers to be called Jeff. Vicki knows that Peter/ Jeff has some kind of job that keeps him busy during the day. She does not know that he has been spending all night working at a second job. He is helping to build a Frankenstein’s monster. This second job is unpaid; his incentive is that if the monster is not built, an already existing Frankenstein’s monster named Adam has said that he will kill Vicki and everyone else in the great house of Collinwood.

As we open today, Peter/ Jeff is bitten by vampire Angelique. After Peter/ Jeff regains consciousness, Angelique starts giving him orders. He ignores them, and she bites him again. After that, he seems dazed and agrees to do whatever she commands. She wants him to hook her up to the body under construction and to use her “life force” to animate it. He tells her that he doesn’t know how to do that, and that the body isn’t ready to come to life in any case. Turns out she needn’t have bothered.

Meanwhile, Vicki gets some news. Roger, brother of matriarch Liz, tells her that he wants to send Peter/ Jeff on a six-week training program along with two junior executives from the Collins family business, and that if he works out there will be a job for him at the end of it. Vicki is dazzled by the offer.

Peter/ Jeff comes by. Roger meets him alone in the drawing room to make the offer. Peter/ Jeff can neither leave the Frankenstein project nor tell Roger about it. He has to turn the offer down without explanation, leaving Roger offended. Vicki then asks Peter/ Jeff what he was thinking, and he can’t explain the situation to her, either. She is frustrated that she tells him everything about herself, but she can’t get any information from him. She says that the offer must have represented a “family decision” on the part of the Collinses, implying that Peter/ Jeff’s refusal will reflect badly on both of them in their eyes.

When Dark Shadows started in June 1966, Vicki was its chief protagonist, Roger its most menacing villain, and the Collinses’ business interests a major part of the story. Vicki receded to the margins after her most interesting storyline, her difficult relationship with her charge David, was resolved in March 1967, and by that time Roger had become harmless and the business had long since ceased to be a source of interest. When we hear Roger talking about a job for Peter/ Jeff, for a moment it seems that he and the business might once again be important, and that Vicki might again have something to do with the plot. Vicki’s disappointment in her beau reminds us that the character doesn’t really have a place on the show any more.

Upstairs, Liz is taking clothes out of her closet and talking about them with her daughter Carolyn. They jar longtime viewers when they look at a particular dress and reminisce that they bought it on a trip to Boston. For the first 55 weeks of the show, Liz was a recluse who hadn’t left home since Carolyn was an infant. I suspect Liz had worn that dress during that period, and wish I’d looked for it when we were on those episodes during this watch-through. There certainly hasn’t been enough time since then for the trip to Boston to evoke the nostalgic tone in which they describe it, or for the dress to have fallen so far out of fashion that the ladies agree it is time to throw it away.

The Liz-is-a-recluse story was never exciting, and once they ditched it the show was quick to give us scenes of Liz happily going out. It is sometimes said that Dark Shadows is what Star Trek would have been if they had replaced space travel with agoraphobia, and Liz’ seclusion was the first exploration of this topic. Following the deep cut into the early days of the show in Roger’s offer to Peter/ Jeff with a moment when such a prominent part of its first year is simply forgotten is so typical of this period’s episodes that I wonder if some of the dialogue was written by uncredited contributors who weren’t up to date on bygone story points.

Carolyn is glad that Liz, who just recently escaped from a mental hospital, is taking an interest in her wardrobe. Liz lets her down hard when she says that she wants to get rid of as many belongings as possible in the short time before her death. Carolyn tries to tell her that she isn’t dying, but Liz refuses to listen. She demands that Carolyn promise to have an open casket at her funeral.

Liz was in the mental hospital because of a psychological disturbance with which Angelique afflicted her some months ago. When she did that, Angelique was a witch. Since then, Angelique has been stripped of her witchly powers, killed, and brought back to the world as a vampire. You might think Angelique’s spells would all have been broken when she was de-witched; that has been the pattern on Dark Shadows previously. For example, when blonde fire witch Laura vanished in #191, the spell she had cast that caused Liz to mope around and be obsessed with death until she was sent off to a hospital was broken. Longtime viewers wonder if Liz’ continuing obsession with death and her paranoid fear of being buried alive are natural symptoms of the trauma Angelique put her through, and if she just needs better therapy than she was getting in the hospital.

Liz has a dream. It opens with Angelique looking directly into the camera. Angelique is wearing the same costume she wore in the scene with Peter/ Jeff and laughing. When Liz knew Angelique, she never dressed that way, she wore a black wig, and so far as the audience knows she never let Liz hear her signature evil laugh. So it seems that Liz’ current troubles are indeed a part of Angelique’s ongoing spell.

Facing us, Angelique tells Liz that she will be plagued by her obsessions until she dies. This is enough to trigger PTSD flashbacks in regular viewers. Twenty weeks ago, in #477, Angelique was looking at us when she described “The Dream Curse,” an abysmally repetitious, ultimately pointless storyline that dragged on for months. Joan Bennett was a fine actress and a great star, but there was only so much even she could do with a character who just mopes around and talks about death, and Dark Shadows has already made her do it more than once. In a comment on Danny Horn’s post about this episode, I wondered if Angelique couldn’t have cast a spell on Liz that isn’t just a retread of one we’ve seen before, and suggested one that would give her “a compulsion to put on a top hat and tails and sing and dance.” Here’s an animated gif of a cartoon showing Joan Bennett’s sister Constance dancing with Jean Harlow and Joan Crawford; it has more entertainment value than did the entire Dream Curse, and might serve as a consolation to those of us left shaking by Angelique’s threat to clog up the story again:

Episode 461: Crosses in life

Nineteen weeks ago, well-meaning governess Vicki disappeared from a séance in the drawing room of the great house at Collinwood and found herself in the year 1795. Her miserable failure to adapt to her new surroundings led to her conviction on charges of witchcraft. At the end of Friday’s episode, we attended her hanging.

Today we begin with an unusually long opening voiceover. These typically end before we see the actors; only a couple of times have they picked up again after a scene. This episode marks the first and only time the narration resumes after the opening title. It is necessary- they have to explain that what’s happening to Vicki in the 1790s is somehow simultaneous with the séance in the 1960s.

An unexpected guest in the drawing room. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

When Vicki disappeared in #365, a woman named Phyllis Wick materialized in her place. Now, we cut back and forth between the hanging and the séance. Phyllis clutches her neck and cries out in pain as the rope tightens around Vicki’s neck. Then Victoria reappears in the drawing room, wearing the dress she wore in the 1790s and bearing the wounds she sustained then. Back in the eighteenth century, the hangmen remove the hood they had put on Vicki and see Phyllis’ dead face underneath.

It’s a standard of stage magic for the magician to get into a box, for the box to be sealed tight, and for the magician’s assistant to be the one who gets out when the box is opened. That gag may not have been so familiar in the eighteenth century, but the inexplicable substitution can hardly undermine the certainty the executioners feel that Vicki was a witch.

By the end of the scene in the drawing room, first time viewers will be very largely caught up on what was going on when Vicki left in November. Before Vicki even appeared, we learned that Barnabas Collins recognized Phyllis Wick and was alarmed to see her, telling us that he is an interloper from the past trying to conceal a secret. Permanent house-guest Julia Hoffman announces that she is a medical doctor. Julia apologizes to Liz for having concealed this fact, which not only lets us know that she did conceal it but also tells us that the house belongs to Liz. Julia and Carolyn exchange frosty words, making it clear that they are enemies. Julia is even chillier to Barnabas, while Barnabas and Carolyn exchange a conspiratorial look. In contrast to all of these promises of drama, the reasonable observations Roger makes and his straightforward helpfulness suggest that he hasn’t been an active part of a storyline for some time.

The scene in the drawing room does not match the one Vicki left. Everyone is sitting in a different spot, the conversation after Vicki disappeared doesn’t seem to have played out the same way, and Phyllis is played by another actress. The Dark Shadows wiki has some fun with this, saying that the changes “can be rationalized as a changed history due to Victoria’s presence in [the] past.” This is the kind of theory that I enjoy very much, but I’m afraid it doesn’t work. If Vicki has come to a later stage of the time-band in which she spent the last nineteen weeks, Barnabas would remember her, not Phyllis, as his little sister’s governess.

As it is, Barnabas is desperate to find out what Vicki learned when she was in the era that holds the key to his secret. Julia leaves Vicki alone for a moment, and Barnabas appears at her bedside. She talks to him in a quiet, urgent voice about her fragmentary recollections of the 1790s. Alexandra Moltke Isles’ performance in this scene is so beautiful that I can’t imagine it failing to touch even the most shriveled hearts.

Vicki tells her tale to Barnabas. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

We end with Barnabas telling Carolyn that if Vicki knows enough to be a threat to him, he will stop at nothing to silence her. When Carolyn asks what he means, he repeats his ominous vow.

There are many line bobbles and a couple of physical stumbles today. Most obvious is a moment when Grayson Hall, as Julia, stumbles over a piece of metal equipment while entering Vicki’s room. But the whole thing is so well-structured and the actors are so completely into it that none of them bothered us.

Episode 458: Soon her journey will be over

Naomi Collins (Joan Bennett) has learned that her son Barnabas, whom she knows to be dead, gets out of his coffin at night and kills people. At the end of yesterday’s episode, she saw Barnabas bite his second cousin Millicent on the neck and suck her blood.

The year is 1796, and Naomi has never heard of vampires. She is in a daze about the whole thing. It is clear to her that her husband Joshua has been keeping the truth about Barnabas from her. Though Joshua’s habit of concealment has led to one disaster after another, Naomi accepts that in this case it was his way of expressing love, and she embraces him. She asks Joshua to explain what has happened to their son; he says he doesn’t really understand it, and isn’t sure it would help if he did.

Naomi is hiding bewildered time-traveler Vicki. In the parts of Dark Shadows set in the 1960s, Joan Bennett plays matriarch Liz. The show has been hinting heavily since episode #1 that Vicki is Liz’ unacknowledged daughter. They never make that point explicit. They have no reason to. Liz so completely treats Vicki like a daughter that nothing of any importance would change if the biological relationship were confirmed. Nor would any particularly exciting story possibilities open up if it turned out Vicki were not Liz’ daughter. In the early days of the show, there were a few hints that Vicki might have a doomed romance with Liz’ brother Roger, but they’ve long since made it abundantly clear that no such thing was in the cards,* and nothing else about Vicki would change if she turned out to have a different mother.

Naomi’s attitude to Vicki echoes Liz’ maternal affection. Naomi stood up to the tyrannical Joshua, apparently for the first time ever, to insist that he retain Vicki as governess to their daughter Sarah. She defied Joshua again to testify on Vicki’s behalf during her trial for witchcraft. Now Vicki is a fugitive from justice, escaped from gaol and facing a death sentence, and Naomi insists on harboring her. When Naomi decides that Barnabas’ condition leaves her no choice but to commit suicide, she goes first to Vicki and then to Barnabas, speaking to each in the same motherly tone and giving each the same motherly embrace. Throughout the eighteenth century flashback, the characters have served as mirrors of those played by the same actors in the contemporary segments, and in Naomi’s effective adoption of Vicki we see a clear reflection of Liz.

Naomi’s suicide also harks back to Liz. Naval officer/ sleazy operator Nathan Forbes is using Barnabas’ condition to blackmail the family, and that blackmail is one of the things that pushes Naomi hardest towards self-destruction. From March to July of 1967, Liz was blackmailed by another maritime scalawag, seagoing con man Jason McGuire. In her despondency over what Jason was doing to her, Liz three times had to be kept from throwing herself to her death from the cliff on Widow’s Hill.

Closing Miscellany

Whatever poison Naomi has decided to take must not be very potent. She pours about a cup of it into her brandy and is still able to stroll over to visit Barnabas and have a long conversation with him before she dies.

What is that, enough salt to cause a life-threatening case of high blood pressure? Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Naomi writes a suicide note and leaves it for Joshua. This raises a question. When did Naomi become literate? When first we saw her, in #366, the show went out of its way to make sure we knew that she could not read even the simplest text, but now she dashes off what appears to be a substantial message in calligraphic script. Naomi has been growing more assertive as time has gone on, but we haven’t seen her learning to read and write, as we saw Barnabas giving much put-upon servant Ben a writing lesson in #375.

Naomi writing her suicide note. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

When Naomi is taking poison, there is some music that I don’t remember. I’m not sure if it is new, or if we just haven’t heard it played in full for a while. It features some pretty impressive theremin playing.

*Much to the dismay of Vicki/ Roger shippers like Tumblr user WidowsHill, creator of fine artworks such as these:

Images and text by WidowsHill, posted on tumblr 17 March 2024.

Episode 409: Some of the facts

When well-meaning governess Victoria Winters came unstuck in time and tumbled from 1967 to 1795, she brought with her a copy of the Collins family history. We first saw this book in #45, when flighty heiress Carolyn Collins Stoddard read this excerpt aloud:

Jeremiah Collins, sixth generation descendant of the founder of Collinsport. In 1830 married Josette Lafrenière of Paris, France. The construction of Collinwood, the family mansion, was begun the same year.

Right up to the last few weeks before Vicki left for the past in November 1967, Dark Shadows kept equivocating about whether Josette, Jeremiah, and the rest of them lived in 1830 or in the late 18th century. The name “Lafrenière” was not mentioned again after #45, but neither was any other surname given for her birth family until the name “DuPrés” was introduced during the 1795 segment. Likewise, #45 is the only time we hear that Josette was from Paris. Her association with the island of Martinique is established in #239, when the vampire Barnabas Collins tells his victim Maggie that he met Josette there and taught her English on the journey to Collinsport, where she was to marry Jeremiah. That Josette was the daughter of the richest French planter on Martinique, a condition that in 1795 in our time-band characterized the lady who would become the Empress Josephine, is something the show commits itself to during the flashback segment.

These were only a few of the myriad revisions and retcons the show went through in regard to Barnabas and Josette’s time as living beings. Today, Josette and her aunt, the Countess DuPrés, go through the book and remark on its many inaccuracies. The episode ends with a shock when they realize that at least one of these inaccuracies is the result of a conscious decision by haughty overlord Joshua Collins to falsify the record of events.

Josette and the countess read The Book. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

I was going to write about how meta this all is, but then I reread Danny Horn’s post about the episode on Dark Shadows Every Day and found that he had already done it. I would just add that the very idea of traveling back in time is a metaphor for rewriting, so that the whole storyline is an exercise in self-reference by the writers and producers.

This episode features the death of Barnabas Collins. Barnabas has been the show’s main draw for a long time, but he was already dead when we met him in April 1967, and he’s been dying for the last four days of this flashback, so that’s less of a milestone than it might seem. The event is presented as another exercise in continuity. In #345, vampire Barnabas told mad scientist Julia Hoffman that before his death he had vowed to Josette that he would someday return to her. Indeed, Josette is at his bedside in his last moments as a human, and he does make that vow.

Barnabas dies. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Barnabas accompanies his vow with a plea for Josette to wait for him. That, too, is a continuity moment. Josette is played by Kathryn Leigh Scott, who also played Maggie. When Barnabas returned as a vampire in 1967, he kept Maggie prisoner and tried to replace her personality with that of Josette. Whatever the living Barnabas may have been thinking in his last moments, the vampire Barnabas expected to find Josette waiting for him, 172 years after his death, and that expectation motivated the first major crime we saw him commit.

Episode 303: Separate worlds

Fake Shemp Burke Devlin is starting to suspect that there is something odd about old world gentleman Barnabas Collins. He suspects that Barnabas is not from England as he claims to be. More darkly, he is considering the possibility that Barnabas might be the one who abducted Maggie Evans, The Nicest Girl in Town, and held her prisoner. As it happens, the audience knows that he is correct in both of these suspicions. We also know more- that Barnabas is a vampire.

Burke has hired investigators to probe into Barnabas’ past. Barnabas told him he lived near London with a cousin named Niall Bradford. Burke’s investigators have found that the last time a man of that name lived in London was 130 years previously. Dark Shadows has been going back and forth for months on whether Barnabas lived in the 1830s or in the eighteenth century. Yesterday they seemed to commit themselves to the earlier date, but now we’re back with the 1830s.

Burke asks Maggie’s doctor, addled quack Dave Woodard, to show him all of her medical records. Woodard protests that medical records are confidential. He then tells Burke everything he knows about Maggie’s case.

Burke calls on Maggie. She is back home, apparently well, but suffering from amnesia covering the entire period of her captivity. Unknown to any of the characters we see today, Maggie’s psychiatrist Julia Hoffman is a mad scientist in league with Barnabas, and she has wiped Maggie’s memory clean of any information that might threaten to expose him. Burke talks with Maggie and her boyfriend, hardworking young fisherman Joe, repeating everything Woodard told him a few minutes before.

Maggie and Joe tell Burke that she has had a few visitors since she came home. Maggie blithely mentions that Barnabas was one of those visitors. Burke is startled to hear this, and Maggie repeats that Barnabas dropped in to pay his respects.

During the fourteen weeks when Dark Shadows was driven by undead fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins, Burke saw extensive evidence of supernatural doings. But he lately he has decided that he lives in the kind of world where the show took place in its first few months, where there might be hints of ghosts in the background, but all the action came from flesh and blood humans subject to the usual laws of nature. Since it doesn’t occur to him that a person might have powers like Julia’s, Maggie’s calmness when talking about a visit from Barnabas seems to prove that Barnabas is innocent.

Burke learns that Barnabas has been to see Maggie.

Maggie does say that there is just one memory she has that seems to be connected with her time in captivity. It is a bit of music- “a light, playful tune. A soft, tinkling sound.” She freely admits that it seems unlikely that this would have any connection with such an experience, and speculates that it may have been something she remembered from childhood.

In the great house of Collinwood, well-meaning governess Vicki is listening to the enchanted music box Barnabas gave her. Burke and Vicki are now engaged to be married. He comes to see her, and remarks on the music box. She accuses him of being jealous of Barnabas, and he keeps coming back to the music box. When she opens it for him, he remarks that it makes “a light, playful tune… a soft, tinkling sound.”

The episode ends with Burke listening to the music box and staring off into space. Barnabas gave the music box first to Maggie, then to Vicki, in each case hoping that she would listen to it until its magical quality caused her to believe that she was his lost love Josette. Seeing the look on Burke’s face as he listened, my wife, Mrs Acilius, said “Maybe Burke will start to think that he’s Josette.” Who knows, maybe he and Barnabas could be very happy together.