denial – Dark Shadows Commentary

Episode 748: Here in the past

Madwoman Jenny Collins is hiding in the quarters of her formerly devoted servant, Beth. Beth enters with Jenny’s estranged husband, libertine Quentin. Jenny eavesdrops as Beth tearfully tells Quentin that she was once very close to Jenny, but that now she wishes her ill, because she is in love with him. Quentin and Beth embrace, and Jenny lunges at them with a kitchen knife.

Quentin disarms Jenny and strangles her. We were introduced to Quentin as a murderous ghost haunting the great house of Collinwood in 1969, and when we first came to the year 1897 to meet him as a living being it was a matter of minutes before he was squeezing his grandmother’s throat and threatening to kill her. Quentin has been going around the house announcing for days and days that he plans to kill Jenny, so it comes as no surprise to the audience that he puts his hands around her neck even though she has already been disarmed, fights off Beth’s attempts to stop him, and keeps choking Jenny until some time after she has stopped moving. We have been well-prepared for this unambiguous image of intentional homicide.

Once Quentin has finished his work, he runs out of the room. Beth goes to the foyer and, between sobs, tells Quentin’s stuffy brother Edward that Jenny is in her room, dead.

In Beth’s room, Edward feels Jenny’s wrist and says that she is indeed dead. Once Beth has given him a few of the salient details of the murder, he declares that he has heard enough. He orders Beth to take the knife back to the kitchen and put it where it belongs. They talk briefly about Jenny and Quentin’s children, whose existence has previously only been hinted to the audience and has been denied to other characters as recently as yesterday.

We cut to the foyer. Quentin comes creeping down the stairs, holding a bag and looking from side to side. When Quentin reaches the foot of the stairs, Edward seizes the bag and orders him to stay in the house. In the drawing room, Edward tells Quentin and Beth what story they will put about to cover up the murder and save the family name. Beth is to say that she found Jenny lying at the foot of the stairs, stunned. She helped Jenny to her room, then left her there for a moment while she went to look for help. Finding no one, she came back and saw Jenny lying on the bed. When she could not wake her, she realized she had died of the injuries she sustained in her fall.

Quentin says that the story will not work. He tells Edward that earlier in the evening, Jenny’s presence at Collinwood was revealed to three more people, distant cousin Barnabas Collins and ethnic stereotypes Magda and Sandor Rákóczi. Edward says that as a member of the family, Barnabas will not question the story, and that as “Gypsies,” Sandor and Magda will do anything in return for money. Quentin says that Magda and Sandor will not be so easy to deal with. When they learned that Jenny was in the house, Magda told Quentin something which he tells Edward and Beth “None of us ever knew,” that Jenny was her sister.

Edward is thunderstruck, and exclaims “You married a Gypsy!” Yesterday it seemed that Edward and Quentin’s sister Judith, the owner of the house, had known Jenny’s origin for some time, and that it was why she locked Jenny up in the house when she went insane rather than sending her to a mental institution where Sandor and Magda might be among her visitors. And as far back as #701, it seemed likely that Beth knew secrets relating to Jenny, to Magda, and to Romani heritage. In that episode, Quentin marveled that Beth was still around Collinwood when Jenny, who had brought her to the house as her servant, had left, and Magda taunted Beth by bringing up a bit of Romani folklore and laughing “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” So while Jenny’s background is news to Quentin and Edward, it may not be true that “None of us” knew.

Magda and Sandor come to the house. On their previous visits to the great house, they have acted like servants or like stage Gypsies come to tell fortunes and sing songs. But now that the word is out about Jenny’s true identity, they come in with their heads up and look Edward in the eye. They say that they have come to see Jenny. Edward turns away from them, and says that there has been an accident. Jenny is dead. Horrified, Magda asks where she is. Edward says that she is in Beth’s room, and offers to have Beth show them the way. Magda says that she knows where it is, and that she and Sandor want to go by themselves. Edward says “Of course,” very much in the tone a gentleman uses with his equals.

In the room, Magda notices that Jenny is holding a button in her hand. She concludes that she pulled it off the coat of a man with whom she was fighting for her life. Sandor notices heavy bruising around her neck.

Meanwhile, Edward is drilling Beth and Quentin in the stories they are to tell. Beth recites the whole thing, and he tells her to remember every word. Quentin is less cooperative, but still seems to have learned his part. He tells them not to speak until they are spoken to.

Sandor and Magda enter. She asks some questions; Edward answers, and shows offense when she tries to direct them to Beth. Before he can proceed to the next act of the little drama he has prepared, letting first Beth and then Quentin corroborate his account with the stories he has given them, Magda looks at Quentin’s coat. She can see that a button is missing and that the ones that remain match the one she found in Jenny’s hand. She calls him a murderer, and says that the police will hear of it.

Edward says that Quentin might have lost the button anywhere at any time. He asks her what the authorities in the village of Collinsport would do if asked to choose between a Romani person’s word and that of a Collins. Magda drops the idea of going to the police, and tells Quentin that she will place a curse on him that will make him suffer as Jenny suffered, but that his suffering will not be subject to the release that death has brought Jenny. Quentin is terrified, Edward dismissive.

Magda tells Quentin she will curse him. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

From the very beginning, one of the main themes of Dark Shadows has been denial, the psychological defense mechanism. In this one, we see that denial is, among other things, the wish that time would stop moving forward. Quentin says that he is not going to go to jail for something he did not mean to do. He obviously did mean to kill Jenny, but he does not want to accept any of the consequences that follow from that act. He wants to be frozen in his comfortable, carefree life, without punishment from the law or vengeance from Magda. Edward wants the family name to be frozen in the lofty regard in which it was held before Quentin murdered Jenny.

For her part, when Magda tells Quentin it will not be possible for him to die, she is promising to give him and Edward what they want, but not in the way they want it. A curse is a way of freezing time. The suffering it brings persists, unchanged, from year to year. It cannot be explained, it cannot be escaped, it falls on one person after another whatever their deserts. Its only logic is to renew itself endlessly.

Episode 747: Triumphant life behind a locked door

Madwoman Jenny, estranged wife of libertine Quentin Collins, is on the loose again, and she is the object of a madcap search by Quentin’s sister, spinster Judith, his girlfriend, maidservant Beth, and his distant cousin, secret vampire Barnabas. Quentin makes two contributions to the process. The less important is to serve as the bait in a cockamamie trap Barnabas and Judith lay for Jenny. The more important is to keep up a running commentary mocking the other characters for the silliness of their activities.

The trap itself involves a moment of intentional humor. Barnabas has returned to the year 1897 to prevent Quentin becoming a ghost who will ruin things for everyone on the great estate of Collinwood in 1969. One of the things Quentin did in that year that terrified the characters and tried the patience of the audience was to cause the strains of a sickly little waltz continually to resound from the walls of the great house. When the show became a costume drama and we got to know the living Quentin, we found that he too played a gramophone record of that same tune incessantly, annoying all and sundry. The trap requires Quentin to play the recording over and again until Jenny hears it and comes. After it has been going for half an hour, Barnabas tells Quentin that the plan didn’t work and they should stop playing the waltz. Quentin asks “Are you tired of hearing this music?” Barnabas speaks for all of us when he replies “Frankly, yes.”

Not only is this a successful comedy, it also gives the cast an opportunity for some of their best dramatic acting. As Judith, Joan Bennett at one point stops, looks at Barnabas, and asks “Can we trust you? Really trust you?” She apologizes for the bluntness of that question, then admits that she has long been busy putting a prettier face on the Collins family than the dark secrets Barnabas has discovered make plausible. “I’m not really very trusting. I try to pretend we’re nicer than we really are.” In the parts of Dark Shadows set in the 1960s, Bennett plays matriarch Liz, whose whole personality is about denial and the pretense that the Collinses are nicer than they really are. Liz latched onto Barnabas as soon as she saw him, and refuses to see any evidence that he is not quite normal. Nor does she ever really face her own habits of concealment and their implications. In this little exchange, we see Bennett playing a character whose superficial similarities to Liz point up her profound differences from her.

Joan Bennett had one of the most distinguished careers of any American actress of the twentieth century. Terrayne Crawford stands at something of the opposite pole, and her performance as Beth leads most fans to declare that she is the weakest of all the members of the cast of the portion of Dark Shadows set in the year 1897. I don’t really disagree with that, but she is fine today. Miss Crawford’s great limitation was that she could play only one emotion at a time, and she was on the show in a period when the scripts gave every character complex motivations in almost every scene. But today, all Beth has to play is Anguish, and Miss Crawford does a fine job.

Beth took care of Jenny during the year Quentin was away from Collinwood, and became very close to her. In the nine and a half weeks since Quentin’s return, she has fallen in love with him. In a scene at the close of today’s episode, Beth tearfully admits to Quentin that she wishes something would happen to Jenny so that he would no longer have a wife. Beth collapses into Quentin’s arms. Jenny has been hiding in a corner, eavesdropping; she comes out, holding a knife. There have been occasions when we might have rooted for Jenny to succeed in killing Beth, just to spare us the embarrassment of Miss Crawford’s flat, tedious performances. But this time, we want to see more of her, and the prospect that Beth might die makes for an effective cliffhanger.

Episode 694: Enough tragedy in this house

For months, the evil ghost of Quentin Collins has been gaining strength, secretly manipulating children Amy Jennings and David Collins as he prepares to drive everyone from the great house of Collinwood so that he can have the place to himself. Now he has cast aside all secrecy and he openly menaces the adult residents of the house. Today, they give up and leave. Once they are all gone, Quentin stands on the walkway at the top of the staircase in the foyer and laughs heartily.

Collinwood belongs to matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard. Liz’ brother Roger, David’s father, lives there as her guest. Up to this point, Liz and Roger have served primarily as blocking figures. Each is devoted to denial as a way of life. Occasionally a fact bursts upon them that is so enormous that one or the other of them has no choice but to face it for a little while. Usually they snap back into their characteristic mode of willful ignorance the moment the crisis is past, and even while it is going on the other responds by digging even deeper into the insistence that nothing is happening. When I first watched Dark Shadows, I could imagine the characters fleeing Collinwood one by one, then venturing back to get Liz and Roger, only to find them sitting serenely in the drawing room, assuring their would-be rescuers that everything was all right while leather-winged demons fluttered about their heads.

On Monday, Liz saw enough of Quentin’s power that she gave up her attitude of denial, apparently forever. Today, Roger does what we have been led to expect, and loudly declares that the whole issue is imaginary and that the other adults should be ashamed of themselves for encouraging the children to be afraid of ghosts. When the whole house starts to resound with the crepuscular tones of an old-timey waltz Quentin plays when he is exercising power, Roger declares that it is a trick the children are playing on them. The others go to pack their things while Roger stays in the drawing room.

Alone there, Roger sees Quentin materialize before him. On their way out, Liz and occult expert Timothy Eliot Stokes check the drawing room one last time, and find Roger sitting motionless in a chair. For a moment we wonder if he will fall over dead. He starts speaking, though, and admits that he was wrong. As they leave, Roger looks back into the house and shouts a defiant pledge to return. Apparently the makers of Dark Shadows have decided they no longer need two major characters whose primary function is to put the brakes on the action.

Roger reacts to the sight of Quentin. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

After everyone has gone, the camera pans across sets representing several rooms in the great house. This must have taken some doing. The foyer and drawing room were the only standing sets; the others were built as needed. The show was done live to tape, so these sets must all have been standing simultaneously. The studio was not very big at all. I wonder if they crammed some of these into space that was not generally used for action.

The walkway at the top of the foyer stairs is a commanding position, and the show has been sparing in its use of it. Quentin’s triumphant laugh is the first time we see a villain stand there and exult in his new position as Master of Collinwood. In the early days of the show, the dashing and enigmatic Burke Devlin threatened to take control of the house. He never came very close to doing that, but it could have been interesting to see him stand on the walkway, survey the foyer, and think about the day when the house would be his. For a long period in 1967, seagoing con man Jason McGuire was bossing Liz around; there were several days when he might have stood on the walkway, looked around with smug satisfaction, and chuckled.

Yesterday’s episode ended with the drapes in a bedroom in flames. That was a real fire, not a special effect, and you could see it spreading rapidly and putting out a lot of smoke. Having failed in that attempt to murder everyone in the building, the technical staff in today’s reprise of the sequence settles for lighting some gas burners behind a window dressing.

Episode 686: Curious so many hearts should stop in this house

When Dark Shadows began in June 1966, we were introduced to Roger Collins as a high-born ne’er-do-well with no sense of responsibility to anyone or anything. Roger had squandered his entire inheritance; his sister, reclusive matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard, nearly bankrupted herself trying to buy up his half of the family business to keep it from falling into outside hands. Roger and his son, strange and troubled boy David, lived in Liz’ house as her guests. Roger drew a salary from the business, but barely pretended to do any work for it. He made absolutely no pretense of concern for David; on the contrary, he expressed his hatred for his son openly, tried to persuade Liz to send him to a boarding school or an institution or any other place that was far away, and speculated out loud that David might be the natural son of his sworn enemy, dashing action hero Burke Devlin.

David’s mother, Roger’s estranged wife Laura Murdoch Collins, was on the show from December 1966 to March 1967. Roger schemed to get her to leave and take David with her. When he discovered that Laura was an undead fire witch whose plan was to burn David alive in order to secure her own peculiar immortality, he was shocked into a display of fatherly tenderness. He’s never been quite himself since.

By April 1968, the show had long since erased all signs of the financial crisis Roger’s crapulent youth had brought upon the family. Further, Roger had by that time shown so many signs of mature responsibility in his attitudes both towards his son and towards his work that we might have wondered if they were going to retcon away all of his vices. It was a genuine surprise when, in #474, Liz told Roger’s new wife Cassandra that Roger lived in her house as her guest, worked in her business as her employee, and owned nothing himself. Roger’s spendthrift past seemed to have no place in the story by that point.

Today, Roger is at his most conventionally respectable. He comes home from a long business trip, indicating his sober devotion to the work of Collins Enterprises. He finds David in his room, struggling with distant cousin Barnabas Collins and permanent houseguest Julia Hoffman. After a commercial break, Roger says that he has heard about the many complicated events that took place while he was away. Barnabas explains that David had told him that silversmith Ezra Braithwaite came to the house to see him, bearing a ledger with information he wanted. David found Mr Braithwaite in the drawing room, dead of a heart attack. The ledger was nowhere to be found. Barnabas and Julia have come to David to ask if he can shed any light on what may have happened to the ledger, and the boy became violently upset. Roger insists Julia and Barnabas leave the room. He talks soothingly to David and tells him he does not believe any accusations against him.

Later, Roger confronts Barnabas and Julia in the drawing room. He finds the ledger on the desk where Mr Braithwaite was sitting when he died; he does not accept Julia and Barnabas’ assurance that it was not there earlier. He dismissively asks if they are suggesting that “a ghost” put it there. He demands they apologize to David, making it a condition for their continued presence in the house that they do so.

Barnabas is shocked when Roger threatens to revoke his great house privileges. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

As it happens, Barnabas and Julia strongly suspect that a ghost did put the ledger back on the desk, and the audience knows they are right. Roger has seen quite a bit of evidence of supernatural forces at work in and around Collinwood, as has Liz. But both of them consistently refuse to acknowledge this evidence. Each of them has had moments when the wall of denial started to crumble; notably in #88, Roger said to Liz, “I’ve seen and felt things, things I couldn’t actually explain. You can’t tell me it hasn’t happened to you, because I know better.” But they always snap back to form sooner or later, no matter how obvious the truth is, and there would obviously be no point in laying the facts before Roger when he is in this mood.

Julia and Barnabas have asked Liz to show them the old family archives. It is the middle of the night, everyone is very tired as the result of the fuss and bother that occurs when a corpse has to be removed from the house by lawful means, they will not tell her what topic they are researching, and they insist on starting work immediately. She asks if they expect her to go along with them on this basis, prompting Barnabas to smile as genially as he can and say “Of course!” You can’t expect to persuade crazy people to behave reasonably, so she gives in.

The archives are a dusty room somewhere in the great house that Julia somehow failed to enter during the months when she was staying at the house under the pretense of being an historian looking into the early years of the Collins family. The first book Julia picks up is an old photo album, and one of the first pages she turns to is a photograph of a woman whose ghost she and Barnabas saw the other night. The photo is dated 1897. The woman looks just as she did in her ghostly form, suggesting that she died not much later than that. There is some business with doors slamming shut and windows blowing open to fill the last thirty seconds of the episode, and the closing credits roll.

My wife, Mrs Acilius, pointed out that Roger’s defensiveness concerning David serves the same purpose in the plot as does Barnabas and Julia’s ludicrously cack-handed approach to questioning him. The evil ghost is still quite weak, the ghost of the woman opposes him, and David and his friend Amy Jennings are desperate to escape from his influence. If any of the adults caught on to what was happening at this point, they could cut the Haunting of Collinwood story short. But it is just getting interesting, and there is only one other plot ongoing now. So we don’t want that. Roger and Liz have to be in full denial mode, Julia and Barnabas have to be terrible at talking with kids, and governess Maggie Evans has to be a squish who doesn’t know the first thing about discipline for the plot to work.

Fortunately, we have ample foundation for each of these character developments. Roger’s origin as a shockingly indifferent father makes it understandable that he would swing to the opposite extreme and treat David with excessive indulgence. As a former vampire and a mad scientist, Barnabas and Julia are metaphors for extreme selfishness, and when they were called upon to act as parents to Frankenstein’s monster Adam in April 1968 they did the worst possible job. Maggie is brand new to governessing; she has been on the show since #1, so we know that she was good at running the coffee shop in the Collinsport Inn, at containing the damage her father did by his alcoholism, at escaping from vampires and mad scientists, and at miscellaneous other tasks involving other adults. But she has never been responsible for children or trained as a teacher, and so it neither surprises us nor alienates us from her that she is bad at the job.

Episode 502: Some experience with the criminal mind

Yesterday, matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard and her daughter Carolyn were in their drawing room quarreling about some family matters when a strange man stumbled into the house. The man was 6’6″ tall, his face was scarred, he trailed a length of chain from a shackle he wore on one ankle, and could speak only a few words. When Carolyn tuned the radio to an Easy Listening station, the man found that the listening was not at all easy for him. Saying “Not music!,” he smashed the radio. This prompted Liz to threaten him with a letter opener. Frightened, the man clutched at Carolyn. The situation escalated when Liz’ distant cousin Barnabas burst in and pointed a rifle at the man. Finally, the man ran out of the house, carrying Carolyn with him.

Today, Liz is moping in the foyer. Local man Tony Peterson, who had gone on a few dates with Carolyn some months ago, comes to the door. He and Liz discuss the situation. Liz laments the harsh tone she took with Carolyn during their argument. She tells Tony that she supposes there is a generational difference between them. He and Carolyn hide their feelings, while Liz expresses hers. This is an exceedingly strange thing for Liz to say- the whole foundation of her character is denial. In the first months of Dark Shadows, Liz was a central character, and the show was largely a study of that psychological defense mechanism and its consequences. She has moved to the margins of the action since then, but hasn’t changed her personality. Indeed, Liz’ conversation with Carolyn took a harsh turn precisely because she refused to face the unpleasant facts Carolyn was reporting to her.

Tony comforts Liz. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Liz and Tony go to the Old House on the grounds of Liz’ estate, home to Barnabas. They find Barnabas’ servant Willie on the ground by the front door of that house; the door is open, and Willie is nursing a recent head wound. He confirms that the man had been there and that he was carrying Carolyn in his arms. He says that Carolyn appeared to be unconscious. Tony announces that he will go after them, and Willie tells him he will need a gun. “He’s strong, that Adam,” says Willie.

Liz demands to know why Willie called the man “Adam.” Willie denies that he did. That only irritates Liz, who insists that Willie tell her what he knows about the man. Willie repeats his denial, and says that he is worried about a nightmare. He keeps going on about this topic, to which Liz angrily responds “I don’t want to hear any more about your dream!”

Liz confronts Willie. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Adam has taken Carolyn to an abandoned root cellar somewhere in the woods. This is a new set. Regular viewers, knowing what a rarity new sets are on a show with this one’s budget, will expect something important to happen there. What happens there today is that Adam and Carolyn struggle to communicate with each other. She asks him what he wants; he manages to say “Kill Barnabas!,” a goal which people who have been watching for the last several weeks will agree he has excellent reasons to pursue. He holds a burning pine cone and is surprised to find that it hurts when the fire reaches his hand; she is startled to find that he didn’t know that, and says that he is like a baby. She tries to leave the root cellar, but he won’t let her get to the door.

Liz spoke for the audience when she said she didn’t want to hear any more about Willie’s dream, but it is dramatized for us anyway. It ends with the image that frightens Willie the most, a wolf’s head. Longtime viewers can well understand why this might be a terrifying symbol to Willie. When Willie first worked for Barnabas, Barnabas habitually beat him with his heavy wooden cane topped with a metal handle in the shape of a wolf’s head. In those days, Barnabas was a vampire, and when he felt bloodlust dogs would howl. As Barnabas’ blood thrall, that sound would therefore tell Willie that either he himself would soon be drained of more blood, or that he would be forced to help Barnabas prey on someone else. So it makes sense that for Willie, terror has a canine face.

Episode 501: You’ve lied your way out of worse situations

Virtually every episode of Dark Shadows begins with one of a handful of still images of the exterior of a mansion in Newport, Rhode Island, known in those days as Seaview Terrace.* Before the series went into production, Dan Curtis took the cast up to Newport and shot some video of them on the grounds of the mansion. In 1966 and the first half of 1967, bits of that footage were occasionally inserted to give the show a more spacious and less static feeling. When they started shooting episodes in color at the end of July 1967, they could no longer use those inserts, and they had neither the time nor the budget to go back to make more.

Now, Dark Shadows uses green screen effects to create the illusion of exterior shots. Twice today, they show us actors in front of the still of Seaview Terrace that most frequently appears at the opening, with foliage hanging next to them to give an illusion of depth. The result isn’t as satisfactory as the location inserts were, but it’s nice to know the makers of the show are trying to broaden their canvas.**

Frankenstein’s monster Adam has escaped from the Old House at Collinwood and finds his way to the principal mansion on the same great estate. There, he stands outside the windows and listens to a conversation in the drawing room between matriarch Liz and her daughter Carolyn. Carolyn tells her mother that she saw Cassandra, Liz’ brother Roger’s new wife, having a romantic moment with local man Tony. Liz’ keynote has always been denial, and true to form she refuses to believe Carolyn. They go on with this until Adam stumbles through the front door and terrifies them.

Adam can only speak a few words. He smiles when he says one of his favorites, “music.” Carolyn turns on a radio we have never seen before and we hear Francois Lai’s theme to the movie “A Man and a Woman,” an instrumental hit of the 1960s which played on the jukebox at the Blue Whale tavern in #307. Adam scowls, declares it “not music,” and smashes the radio. I’ve always had a fondness for the tune, but listening to this arrangement I have to admit he has a point.

Liz reacts to Adam’s violent act by grabbing a letter opener and threatening him. Panicked, he grabs Carolyn. Two more residents of the estate burst in. They are old world gentleman Barnabas Collins, master of the Old House, and Julia Hoffman, permanent houseguest in the great house. Barnabas has a rifle and threatens to shoot Adam if he doesn’t put Carolyn down immediately. Adam flees into the woods, still carrying Carolyn.

Julia stays in the drawing room with Liz. It dawns on Liz that Barnabas must have been hunting Adam. Julia denies this, and Liz asks why Barnabas had a gun. In response, Julia talks very fast and says very little. That gives us a wonderful little scene. It’s always exciting when a brick falls out of the wall Liz built between herself and reality, and Julia is one of the most accomplished liars in drama.

Liz realizes that Barnabas and Julia know more about Adam than they are letting on. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

*A family named Carey bought the place in 1974, so these days it is usually referred to as the Carey mansion.

**The screenshots are from John and Christine Scoleri’s post on their blog Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Episode 452: What can I say to stop this?

Joshua Collins comes back home to the great house of Collinwood. His wife Naomi asks what he was doing the night before, when she found him at the Old House on the estate. He tells her that he had summoned a woman named Bathia Mapes who tried to exorcise the curse that is upon the family. It’s news to Naomi that Joshua believes in curses, and he explains that so much has happened lately that he feels he has no choice but to believe in such things.

Naomi says that when she found Joshua in the Old House she heard the voice of their son Barnabas in the front parlor. Joshua reminds her that she saw Barnabas’ body after he died. He says that he has come to agree with her that Victoria Winters, the family’s former governess who is currently in the Collinsport Gaol awaiting execution on charges of witchcraft, is innocent. He now believes that Barnabas’ sometime wife, Angelique, was the real witch, and that he will do whatever he can to free Victoria. Naomi insists that Joshua isn’t telling her the whole story. He doesn’t contradict her. He keeps saying that he has told her everything she needs to know, and pleads with her to accept that for her sake as well as his own.

Joshua realizing he has to admit to Naomi that he has been wrong. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Returning viewers know that Joshua is withholding a great deal of information from Naomi. Barnabas did die, but Joshua has learned that at night he rises as a vampire. Bathia Mapes came to lift the curse from Barnabas. When Naomi interrupted the proceedings, Bathia lost her mojo and Angelique struck her dead. Joshua is desperate to protect Naomi from the horrible truth about their son, and he certainly doesn’t want her to know that her action led to Bathia’s death. More than once he stumbles over his words, often seeming to catch himself just in time to keep from telling her everything. In his reticence, we see that he really does love Naomi, but he is so firmly entrenched in his habits of concealment and denial and so attached to the control those habits give him over other people that he cannot stop measuring out the truths he will tell.

Joshua goes to the gaol, where Victoria is with her lawyer/ boyfriend/ etc, an unpleasant young man named Peter. Joshua tells Victoria that he wants to apologize to her for having helped convict her. Peter keeps interrupting with his nasty little shouts, and Joshua keeps looking away from him. Victoria accepts Joshua’s apology, and he vows to do whatever he can to prevent her execution.

Joshua talks with the judge who presided over Victoria’s trial. With difficulty, he brings himself to say that his sister Abigail, who was one of the driving forces behind the prosecution of Victoria, was not a reliable witness because of her preoccupation with the Devil. Regular viewers will understand his difficulty. After Abigail died, we saw Joshua, in #434, utterly despondent, freshly broken in ways we had not expected to see. He had already lost his brother, both of his children, and several other people he cared about, so it was no wonder the death of his beloved sister brought him to such a low state. In #446, he learned that Barnabas was responsible for Abigail’s death. When he has to say things about her to which she would object, all of that anguish comes flooding back. The judge asks Joshua if Abigail was insane; evidently that would make a difference. But he reflexively says “Of course not!”

The judge tells Joshua that nothing he has said justifies a new trial or even a postponement of Victoria’s execution. He asks if Joshua knows of a witness who could give unequivocal testimony that Angelique was the witch. As he had when Naomi alluded to the idea of such a witness earlier, Joshua falls silent for a moment. When they talk about this hypothetical witness, the judge and Naomi are both describing Barnabas. But Joshua, sincerely though he wants to spare Victoria, cannot reveal the truth about his son.

Joshua and Peter return to the cell and tell Victoria that nothing has changed. Joshua bids her farewell, looking more deeply defeated than we have seen him before.

A while later, Peter leaves the cell. Desperate, he steals the gaoler’s gun and forces him to unlock the cell. Victoria objects when she first sees what Peter is doing, but holds the gun for him while he tries to bind the gaoler. The gun goes off in the course of the struggle, injuring Victoria’s arm. Peter beats the gaoler unconscious and leads Victoria out of the cell. They hear the voices of a crowd outside and wander from room to room inside the gaol.

This ain’t the story of Bonnie and Clyde. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Howard Honig plays the gaoler, his first screen appearance. Honig would have a long and distinguished career in television and features from the 1970s to the 1990s. I remember him from the movie Airplane!, where he played a passenger named Jack. In the terminal, a friend greets him with “Hi, Jack!” bringing a bunch of very aggressive security guards. I first saw that movie when I was about 12, and that scene fascinated me so much that for a couple of years my father was reluctant to take me on an airplane, fearing I would try to recreate it.

Episode 451: The pit of my soul

Haughty overlord Joshua Collins and good witch Bathia Mapes decide to take Joshua’s son Barnabas to the deserted Old House on the estate of Collinwood. Bathia has agreed to do battle with the ghost of wicked witch Angelique in hopes of lifting the curse whereby Angelique turned Barnabas into a vampire. Bathia warns Joshua that if she is interrupted, Angelique will defeat her. In that case, Barnabas will remain as he is, and Bathia will die. Joshua assures her that no one will come to the Old House.

Bathia, Joshua, and Barnabas before they go to the Old House. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

In the great house on the estate, Barnabas’ mother Naomi talks with fluttery heiress Millicent Collins and Millicent’s new husband, naval officer/ sleazy operator Nathan Forbes. Millicent’s mental health has always been fragile, and Nathan has been making a concerted effort to shatter it altogether so that he can get his hands on her share of the Collins fortune. Making matters worse, Barnabas bit Milllicent the other day. She has a beautiful mad scene today, one of several that Nancy Barrett knocks out of the park during this storyline. She insists on telling Naomi that she has seen Barnabas. This distresses Naomi, who knows that Barnabas is dead but does not know about the vampire curse.

Millicent gives Naomi enough details to stir her curiosity about what is going on at the Old House. She goes there, interrupting Bathia’s efforts. Joshua manages to hustle Naomi out of the house, but the damage is done. Bathia bursts into flames and dies. In keeping with his habit of covering up compromising information, Joshua has kept everything from Naomi. Once more, we see the cost of this habit. Had he leveled with her about Barnabas’ condition, Barnabas might have been freed.

There is a detailed comparison of the script for this episode with the finished product on a tumblelog called sights9. It is in five parts, the first of them here.

A very famous blooper occurs before Joshua and Bathia take Barnabas from the great house to the Old House. Bathia is supposed to be giving instructions, but falls silent, stares at the teleprompter, and squints helplessly for a long moment. Then we hear the line producer, Bob Costello, prompt her with “Then go to the house” and she picks back up.

Episode 446: You have given me nothing I can understand

Haughty tyrant Joshua Collins goes to the basement of the Old House on his estate and finds his son Barnabas rising from a coffin. Barnabas explains to his father that he has become a vampire.

Joshua and Barnabas in the coffin room. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

This scene prompts considerable discussion in fandom about gay subtext. In his post about the episode on Dark Shadows Every Day, Danny Horn points out that actors Jonathan Frid and Louis Edmonds were both gay, and speculates that this fact might have had some influence on the way they play Barnabas’ coming out to his father. “I’m not suggesting that this situation is intended to be a metaphor for a gay child talking to his father about his terrible, shameful secret life… But the ‘keep the secret, don’t tell my mother’ part — there’s some resonance, isn’t there? At least, it’s a hook into the story that helps us to get closer, and really feel some of the horror of this moment. A father hands a gun to his son, and says, Kill yourself, so that your mother never finds out.”

Even this tentative raising of the question, with its “I’m not suggesting” and “some resonance” and “at least,” is too much for Patrick McCray. In his Dark Shadows Daybook post about #446, he concedes that “homosexuality is the obvious choice” for an interpretive lens through which to read the scene, but goes on to flatly assert that “this isn’t a veiled metaphor for something like homosexuality.” For him, as for Danny, Barnabas figures in the scene as a murderer first and last, and Joshua as a man finding himself irrevocably severed from the world of rationally explainable phenomena.

For my part, I think that we have to remember that intentionality is always a more complicated thing in a work of art than it is when lawyers are interpreting a contract or cryptographers are cracking a cipher. Certainly the scene is not simply a coming-out scene played in code. Barnabas’ murders do not map onto any metaphor for sexual encounters. While the vampire’s bite is often a metaphor for the sexual act, Barnabas presents his acknowledgement in this scene that he has murdered three women in terms of the secrets he calculated he could keep by killing them and maintains a cold, matter-of-fact tone while doing so. When in the course of the scene Barnabas exasperates Joshua by attempting to murder him, there is nothing erotic between the men. No doubt the scene is at one level meant to be what Danny Horn and Patrick McCray say it is, the point when Joshua realizes he is part of a supernatural horror story and the audience realizes that Barnabas is a cold-blooded killer. As such, it is one of the key moments that defines the 1795 flashback as The Tragedy of Joshua Collins.

But there are other levels of intentionality here as well. One has to do with the word “vampire.” When Barnabas is trying to tell his story to Joshua, his first approach is to give him the facts and leave it to him to apply the correct label. But the facts are so alien to Joshua that they only deepen his confusion. Seeing his father’s bewildered reaction, Barnabas’ frustration mounts until he finally shouts “I am a vampire!”

We have heard this word only once before on Dark Shadows, when wicked witch Angelique mentioned it in #410, but it figured in the show as a metaphor for outness long before it was spoken. In #315, Barnabas’ associate, mad scientist Julia Hoffman, urges him not to murder strange and troubled boy David Collins. She catches herself, breaking off after saying that David deserves better than “to die at the hands of a-” Barnabas grins and teases her, asking “At the hands of a what, doctor?” He dares her to say the word and taunts her for her faux pas in coming so close to using it. Julia and Barnabas have a tacit understanding that they will discuss his vampirism only in euphemisms and circumlocutions. To say the word would be to push beyond the limits of Barnabas’ outness to Julia.

When he tries to avoid calling himself a vampire, Barnabas is trying to establish a relationship in which his father will know enough that he is no longer inclined to ask questions, but not enough to achieve any real understanding of his feelings. When he realizes that he cannot keep from using the embarrassing, ridiculous, utterly necessary word, Barnabas is forced to come out to Joshua in a way he had desperately wanted to avoid.

Moreover, Jonathan Frid’s performance as Barnabas departs starkly from anything else he does on Dark Shadows. After he calls himself a vampire, Frid’s whole body relaxes. His neck, shoulders, and hips are looser than we have ever seen them; even his knees bend a little. His voice shifts a bit away from the old-fashioned mid-Atlantic accent he typically uses as Barnabas, a bit toward twentieth century Hamilton, Ontario. At that point, he is not playing a murderer or a creature from the supernatural or an eighteenth century aristocrat- he is playing himself, enacting a scene from his own life.

Barnabas’ coming out to his father is not today’s only story about information management. Joshua rules his corner of the world by parceling out just that information he thinks people ought to have. We have seen this habit lead to disaster after disaster. In his scene with Barnabas, we see another such instance. Joshua has come to the basement because naval officer/ sleazy operator Nathan Forbes told him that he had seen Barnabas at the Old House, and that Barnabas had attacked Joshua’s second cousin Millicent. After Barnabas admits to his various murders, Joshua brings up the attack on Millicent. Barnabas denies that he had any involvement in that attack, sparking an angry response from Joshua. When Barnabas later asks Joshua why he came to the basement, he swears that Barnabas will never know why.

Had Joshua told Barnabas that Nathan sent him to the basement, the two of them might have figured out that Nathan faked the attack on Millicent as part of his scheme to trick her into agreeing to marry him and to blackmail Joshua into consenting to the marriage. That in turn might have helped Joshua find a way to prevent Nathan from carrying out his evil schemes. But his parsimony with information leaves Joshua believing Nathan’s story about the attack, and therefore puts him and the rest of the Collinses entirely at Nathan’s mercy. When we see the effect that the radical honesty of coming out as a vampire had on Barnabas, we can’t help but wonder how many misfortunes the Collinses might have avoided if they had not lived according to Joshua’s code of truthlessness.

A voice comes from the upstairs. Naomi Collins, wife to Joshua and mother to Barnabas, has entered the house. Joshua leaves his gun with Barnabas and tells him to do the honorable thing, then hastens up to meet her.

Naomi tells Joshua that she he came to the Old House because Nathan told her he had gone there. She insists that Joshua explain what is going on; he pleads with her not to ask. She tells him to think of her; a quiver in his voice, he says “I am thinking of you now.” Naomi is as mystified and as frustrated by Joshua’s refusal to explain himself as Joshua had been with Barnabas’ story, but even as she plays these reactions Joan Bennett also shows us Naomi softening towards her husband. She catches a glimpse of the lover hidden beneath the lord of the manor, peeking out from below the massive superstructure of his pride.

Back in the great house, Nathan is sprawled on the sofa, his boots resting on a polished table, guzzling the Collinses’ fine liqueurs. When Joshua and Naomi return, Nathan offers Joshua a snifter of brandy and invites him to drink it with him in the drawing room. Joshua reacts indignantly, protesting that he is not accustomed to a guest offering him the hospitality of his own house.

This exchange is familiar to longtime viewers. From March to June of 1967, when Dark Shadows was set in contemporary times, the great house was dominated by seagoing con man Jason McGuire, who was blackmailing reclusive matriarch Liz. Several times, most notably in #200 and #264, Jason poured himself a drink and invited Liz’ brother, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins, to join him. Roger would protest that he was not accustomed to being offered a drink of his own brandy in his own house, often drawing the rejoinder that it was Liz’ brandy and Liz’ house, and that he was as much her guest as Jason was.

Roger and Joshua are both played by Louis Edmonds. Roger represents the final stage of decay from the height Joshua represents. He has squandered his entire inheritance, committed acts of cowardice that cost the lives of two men, and let a more or less innocent man go to prison in his place. In #4 he tried to sneak into well-meaning governess Vicki’s room while she slept, and when Liz caught him he told her he didn’t want to be lectured on his “morals,” leaving no doubt that he was looking for some kind of cheap sexual thrill at Vicki’s expense. He openly scorns his responsibilities as a father, cares nothing for the family’s traditions, and the one time we see him working in his office at the headquarters of the family’s business all he does is answer the telephone and tell the caller to contact someone else instead. He drinks constantly, is always the first to give up on a difficult task, makes sarcastic remarks to everyone, and backs down whenever he faces the prospect of a fair fight. In #273, he even admitted to Liz that, had he known what Jason knew about her, he probably would have blackmailed her too.

Joshua’s relentlessly dishonest approach to life may be rooted in fear, and it is never difficult to see that its end result would be to produce a man as craven as Roger. But Joshua himself is as strong as Roger is weak. It is impossible to imagine Roger shaking off an attempt on his life as Joshua shakes off Barnabas’ attempt to strangle him today. While Roger is prepared to sacrifice any member of his family for his own convenience, Joshua will go to any lengths to protect Naomi from the truth of Barnabas’ horrible secret. Nor does Joshua take the easy way out even when he is knuckling under to Nathan. In their scene today, Nathan makes it clear that he is willing to accompany Joshua back to the Old House. Had Roger known what Joshua knows about that basement, he would never have missed an opportunity to send Jason there and let Barnabas do his dirty work for him. But Joshua cuts Nathan off the moment he raises the subject.

Joshua does go back to the coffin room, and he finds Barnabas standing around. He is disappointed that his son has not killed himself. Barnabas tries to explain that he cannot die by a gunshot, but Joshua dismisses his words. He takes the gun himself and, with a display of anguish, shoots Barnabas in the heart. Only thus, he believes, can he keep the unbearable truth from coming to light.

Episode 424: Your son’s name

Nathan Forbes, naval officer and scoundrel, goes to the Old House on the great estate of Collinwood and finds his estranged wife Suki dying. With her last breath, Suki gasps out the name “Barnabas Collins.”

Nathan goes to the great house and informs the master of the estate, haughty tyrant Joshua Collins, of what he has found. Joshua accompanies Nathan to the Old House. Suki told the Collinses that she was Nathan’s sister, lest she disrupt Nathan’s engagement to fluttery heiress Millicent Collins, a second cousin of Joshua. Suki had planned to force Nathan to divert a large percentage of Millicent’s vast wealth to her. Unaware of the true nature of Suki’s relationship to Nathan, Joshua is only mildly suspicious that Nathan might have murdered her.

Nathan brings up the fact that in her dying words Suki named Joshua’s son. This irritates Joshua, who reminds Nathan that Barnabas has gone to England. Nathan tells Joshua that he thought he saw Barnabas the other night, from a distance, in the dark. Considering that the most Nathan could have been sure he saw under those conditions was Barnabas’ coat, no one would be impressed by such an account. It’s an unusual coat, but there’s nothing to prove Barnabas didn’t get rid of it and wear a new one to England. Joshua is particularly bland about Nathan’s thought that he may have seen Barnabas, since he made up the story that Barnabas went to England to conceal the fact that he died. Joshua believes that Barnabas died of the plague, and that if that news got out the men wouldn’t show up to work at the family’s shipyard. So he does not share Nathan’s suspicion that Barnabas may have had something to do with Suki’s death.

What we know that Joshua does not is that after his death, Barnabas became a vampire. Suki discovered him in the Old House, and he was indeed the one who murdered her. But so far as anyone can tell, Nathan is the only suspect, and whoever learns that Suki was actually his wife will have to regard him as something more than a suspect.

Joshua and Nathan are about to search the house when the gracious Josette comes staggering downstairs. Josette had come to Collinwood to marry Barnabas, had been put under a spell that caused her to marry Barnabas’ uncle Jeremiah instead, and was miserable when both Barnabas and Jeremiah were dead. Now Barnabas has bitten Josette and is planning to kill her and raise her as his vampire bride.

When Suki was killed, everyone around the estate was involved in a search because Josette had gone missing. Joshua and Nathan are shocked to find her here, and even more shocked by her physical condition. She reaches the foot of the stairs, says Barnabas’ name, and collapses.

Joshua and Nathan bring Josette back to the great house. Joshua orders his wife Naomi to look after Josette; Nathan tells Millicent that Suki is dead. When Naomi asks Joshua if Josette said anything when they found her, he lies, concealing Barnabas’ name. Naomi knows as much about Barnabas’ death as Joshua does; that he lies to her suggests that he himself is unsure what to make of the situation.

Millicent decides to make herself useful. She goes through Suki’s papers, looking for the address of the maiden aunt in Baltimore whom Suki told her was the only living relative she and Nathan had. While Nathan tries frantically to stop her, Millicent finds Suki and Nathan’s marriage certificate. She bursts into tears and runs away. The comedy portion of the Millicent and Nathan story has ended.

Millicent finds the marriage certificate. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

As Josette, Kathryn Leigh Scott has some scenes in bed today, adding to many such scenes she has already had. Her character in the parts of Dark Shadows set in the 1960s is Maggie Evans, The Nicest Girl in Town. Maggie also spends a lot of time in bed. In their post about this episode on Dark Shadows Before I Die, John and Christine Scoleri speculate that Miss Scott must have been the best-rested member of the cast, and append an album of screenshots from 22 scenes we have seen so far where Miss Scott was in bed to substantiate their case.