For the first 20 weeks of its run, Dark Shadows developed its story at a stately pace. When writers Art Wallace and Francis Swann were replaced by Ron Sproat and Malcolm Marmorstein, stately became glacial, and at times ground to a halt altogether. For the last few months, Joe Caldwell has been making uncredited contributions to the writing. While Caldwell is probably responsible for some of the glittering moments of witty dialogue and intriguing characterization that have cropped up, everything is still taking a very long time. And this is the second episode in a row in which nothing at all happens to advance the plot.
There are a few interesting moments. We begin with well-meaning governess Vicki entering the long-abandoned Old House on the grounds of the estate of Collinwood in search of her charge, strange and troubled boy David Collins. The doors swing shut, and she cannot open them. The recently arrived Barnabas Collins comes down the stairs, startling her. He opens the doors easily.
This may not sound like a big thrill, but regular viewers will remember that doors swung open at the approach of the previous supernatural menace, blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins. When characters who did not know that Laura was anything other than a woman saw that happen, they didn’t react- it was a small enough thing that they could fail to notice it, and a weird enough thing that it didn’t register. So we have been prepared to watch for tricks with doors as a sign of the uncanny.
Barnabas’ big challenge today is a job of acting. He has to convince the residents of Collinwood that he is a living man from the twentieth century, not a reanimated corpse come to prey upon the living. He has trouble staying in character. When he tells Vicki that once, centuries ago, a father and son had a quarrel in the Old House that led to the son’s death, he starts laughing and repeats the word “death.” Vicki looks at him like he’s a lunatic. He gets it back together fairly quickly, but when Vicki goes back to the great house on the estate she will tell flighty heiress Carolyn that Barnabas is kind of strange.
Barnabas gives Vicki a long, flowery speech about the building of the house, one with no apparent motivation and many logical stopping places. Marmorstein has been giving these overheated orations to actor after actor, defeating them all. As Vicki, Alexandra Moltke Isles came the closest to selling one of them, at the beginning of #167, but she needed maximum support from the director in the form of close-up shots and lighting effects, and even then it was a relief when it was over.
Barnabas’ entire part consists of such speeches. Jonathan Frid stumbles over his lines quite a bit today, as he will do henceforth. No wonder- not only was he dyslexic, but at this point they were shooting seven days a week to make up for production time they lost in a strike late in March. That left him with precious little time to memorize the pages and pages of purple prose they kept dumping on him.
Listening to Frid struggle through his dialogue today, we discover the first reason why Barnabas became such a hit. In his voice, through his mannerisms, Marmorstein’s gibberish sounds gorgeous. Sometimes Frid’s struggle to remember what he’s supposed to say is a problem for the character. Since Barnabas is himself an actor essaying a demanding role, it gets confusing to see Frid’s own difficulties laid on top of his. But even at those times the sound of his voice is so appealing that we root for him to recover and deliver more of his ridiculous lines.
In his speech to Vicki about the building of the Old House, Barnabas mentions that the foundations were made of rocks deposited by glaciers. Any reference at all to glaciers is pretty brave, considering the rate at which the story has been moving in the Sproat/ Marmorstein era. It also raises a question about Barnabas. He is the man who posed for a portrait done in an eighteenth century style, and David told dangerously unstable ruffian Willie Loomis stories about Barnabas’ mother Naomi that would place her towards the middle of the eighteenth century. We’ve also glimpsed a plaque on Naomi’s tomb that gives her dates as 1761-1821, but that prop hasn’t received anything like the screen time the portrait of Barnabas has had, and must have been made long before David’s lines to Willie were finalized. So the trend is to regard Barnabas as someone who was confined to a coffin from the eighteenth century until Monday night. When he starts talking about the rocks laid down during the Ice Age, an event unknown until the mid-nineteenth century, we wonder which night this week he spent updating his understanding of geology.
In the great house, high-born ne-er-do-well Roger comes home from a business trip to Boston. Before updating him and the audience on recent plot developments, Carolyn reminisces about her childhood, when he used to bring gifts to her when he would come home from business trips. She tells him he was the only father she knew. This is a retcon- up to this point, they’ve taken pains to make it clear that Roger and David only moved into the house a few weeks before Vicki’s arrival in episode 1.
Vicki and Barnabas enter the great house. She introduces him to Carolyn and Roger. Roger quickly escorts Barnabas to the study where the two of them talk alone. Roger mentions that a vineyard in Spain that had been in the family in the eighteenth century was still theirs until shortly before World War Two. Barnabas does not react to the phrase “World War Two” at all. Whether this is because he has been studying history as well as geology, or because he was simply overwhelmed with so much new information, is not explained.
While Roger and Barnabas are in the study, Vicki tries to explain to Carolyn why she thinks Barnabas is a bit odd. Carolyn doesn’t want to hear it. She explains the basis of the Collins family’s attitude towards Barnabas when she says it’s a relief just to meet someone friendly after the rough time they’ve had lately. Viewers who have been watching from the beginning will understand how strong that sense of relief must be, and will know that Barnabas is in a position to ride it right into a permanent billet on the estate.
Barnabas leaves, and Roger shows Vicki and Carolyn the portrait. He points out that Barnabas is wearing the same ring as its subject. He does not point out that he is also carrying the even more distinctive wolf’s-head cane.
While those three talk about the wealthy and genial visitor from England Barnabas appears to be, we wonder what he really is. Barnabas first appeared as a hand darting out of a coffin, he has shown up only at night, he lived hundreds of years ago, and he is played by an actor who bears a noticeable resemblance to Bela Lugosi. So we assume that he is a vampire. But so far, there hasn’t been any direct evidence of blood-sucking. During the months Laura was on the show, they made a point of not assimilating her to any familiar mythology. So for all we know, he might be something we’ve never heard of.
The final shot before the credits roll is in the outdoors, where Barnabas is standing perfectly still, surrounded by shrubbery, and with a big smile on his face. Perhaps that shot is telling us that Barnabas is not the vampire we might assume he is, but that he is in fact an undead garden gnome.
A few times in the early months of Dark Shadows, writers Art Wallace and Francis Swann found themselves in a corner. The story could move forward only if a character took a particular action, but they couldn’t come up with a reason to explain why any character would take that action. So they had the character do whatever it was simply because it was in the script, and hoped the actors or director or somebody would come up with sleight of hand to conceal their desperation.
Since well-meaning governess Vicki was on screen more than anyone else, she was the one most often required to behave without motivation. Sometimes, Alexandra Moltke Isles finds a way to make Vicki’s behavior intelligible in spite of the writers. The scenes in which Vicki tries to befriend her charge, strange and troubled boy David Collins, are Dark Shadows‘ premier example of good acting trumping bad writing, and there are smaller examples as well. But there are three times in the Wallace/ Swann era- in episodes 26, 38, and 83– when Vicki simply looks like an idiot. This “Dumb Vicki” will appear more and more often as the series goes on, and will eventually ruin the character and do grave damage to the show.
Some weeks ago, Wallace and Swann were succeeded as the principal writers of the show by Ron Sproat and Malcolm Marmorstein. Sproat was a cut below Wallace and Swann, and Marmorstein was far less talented even than Sproat. Today, we get a succession of Dumb Vicki moments resulting from basic incompetence on Marmorstein’s part.
Vicki is visiting her friend Maggie Evans, The Nicest Girl in Town. Maggie has shown her a canvas that her father, drunken artist Sam, was possessed by an unexplained force to paint. Sam hates the painting and is surprised as he watches it take shape under his brush, but is powerless to stop working on it. It depicts Laura Collins, mother of David. Laura is shown as a winged figure, nude and engulfed in flames.
Sam has had several scenes in which he was shown in closeup delivering speeches about his hatred for the painting and going through convulsions while spooky music plays on the soundtrack. He has also had scenes with Maggie and with Laura’s husband, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins, in which he tries to explain what is going on with him and the painting. Yesterday, Maggie recapped much of this to Vicki, sharing the suspicion that Laura is somehow responsible for Sam’s compulsion to paint the picture. Since the show has also given us loads of hints that Laura is connected to the supernatural, this all adds up to a very heavy-handed way of telling the audience that Sam is possessed.
Once you can say that your characters are possessed by unseen spirits, you get a lot of extra latitude as to what constitutes motivation. Once they have shown us that he is possessed, all we need to know about Sam for his actions to make sense is that he has some kind of connection to Laura and that Laura has some connection to the supernatural. The results of the possession hold our interest as we compare them with other events in the story and look for a pattern we can fit them into.
As far as the supernatural beings responsible for the possession go, we don’t need much information at all about their motivation. Far less than for human characters. Most audiences have more or less definite ideas as to what human beings are and what makes them do the things they do. We’re more flexible as to what supernatural beings are, and are willing to spend a long time searching for coherence hidden in story elements that don’t seem to have a logical connection once we have seen that there are uncanny forces in operation.
To get the benefit of that audience participation, a writer does have to show that supernatural forces are at work. Today, Vicki seems to be possessed, but there is no scene showing us that this has happened. Vicki looks at the painting and says she wants it. Asked why, she says she doesn’t know. Nothing she says makes much sense, or much impression.
Three seconds of Vicki staring at the painting while we hear a theremin cue on the soundtrack would have sufficed to tell us that she was falling under a spell. Not only don’t we get that, Mrs Isles never gets a chance to show us what is happening to Vicki. When Vicki first looked at the painting, she was partially obscured, standing behind Maggie; examining it later, she has her back to the camera. During her dialogue with the loudly agitated Sam, only a few brief shots focus on her. Sam gives Vicki the painting. When Maggie says she wonders how Laura will react when Vicki brings the painting into the house, Vicki mumbles that she doesn’t know.
Had we seen Vicki falling under the spell, the result could have been a powerful moment. As a supernatural storyline goes on, the mysterious forces behind it spread their influence from one character to another. The first moment in this one when we could see that sort of contagion at work is when the powers that have been controlling Sam take hold of Vicki. To hide that moment from us is to hide the whole development of the narrative arc.
Moreover, that this particular development takes place on this set among these characters is quite significant. When Vicki and Maggie first met, Maggie told her that she was a jerk for taking a job at the great house of Collinwood. She told Vicki that Collinwood was a source of trouble for the town of Collinsport. As the weeks went on, Maggie and other Collinsport natives made it clear that a big part of that trouble comes from the ghosts and ghoulies that are housed in Collinwood and that threaten to break out and take over the town. This will indeed become the major theme of the show in the years ahead.
Now Vicki has lived in Collinwood for over six months, and the only ghosts she has seen are the friendly, protective spirits of Josette Collins and beloved local man Bill Malloy. The first time a supernatural being does something frightening to Vicki is in the town of Collinsport, in Maggie’s own house.
Indeed, the Phoenix storyline is the only one in the whole series to invert the usual pattern of Collinwood as hell-mouth and Collinsport as a beleaguered outpost of normality. There are other storylines where evil powers came from far away, from across the sea or from another dimension, and settled in Collinwood before spreading out to threaten Collinsport, but in this story the source of the disturbance is Laura. While she may tell David in episode 140 that she comes from one of the realms described in the legends of the Holy Grail, that origin applies only to her uncanny side. When Laura first came to town, she had told Maggie that she was originally from Collinsport, and in episode 130, Laura’s estranged husband Roger, and Roger’s sister, reclusive matriarch Liz, had mentioned that Laura’s family had moved away from town.
The episode also leaves us on our own trying to figure out what Vicki is thinking. Regular viewers might take some time during the commercial break to puzzle it out, put it in the context of what we’ve seen previously, and wonder if Vicki is in a stupor because she too is possessed. That might help us to get through the rest of the episode, but if we are to feel a live connection to the character we have to understand what she is feeling while we are watching her. A theory we come up with after the fact is no substitute for empathy we experience during the scene. And of course people tuning in to Dark Shadows for the first time will simply think that Vicki is some kind of idiot.
Many fans of Dark Shadows, especially those who haven’t seen the first 42 weeks of the show or who didn’t see them until later episodes had given them fixed impressions, blame Alexandra Moltke Isles’ acting for Dumb Vicki. But today’s scene in the Evans cottage shows how deeply unfair that is. If an actor doesn’t have lines to deliver, she can’t use her voice to create a character. If the camera isn’t pointed at her, her body language is no use. And if the director is telling her to play the scene quietly while the others are going over the top, she’s likely to fade into the background. Without even a musical sting on the soundtrack to support her, there is nothing Mrs Isles could have done to communicate to the audience what Vicki is going through in this scene.
It is easy for me to denounce Malcolm Marmorstein, since his scripts are so often so bad. I am reluctant to place a share of the blame on director John Sedwick, since I am always impressed with Sedwick’s visual style and usually with his deployment of actors. But I can’t believe anyone would have stopped him pointing a camera at Mrs Isles at the appropriate moment, giving her a chance to play her part.
Back at the great house of Collinwood, David and Laura are sitting by the fire. David asks his mother about her old boyfriends. He wants to know if she ever dated dashing action hero Burke Devlin. She admits that she did. When David lets on that he wishes Burke, rather than Roger, were his father, Laura squirms. We’ve had a number of indications that Burke might in fact be David’s biological father, and Laura is alarmed that David is raising the topic.
The front door opens, and David and Laura are glad to see their friend Vicki. They are intrigued by the package Vicki is carrying. David begs to see what’s inside. Laura, in a light and cheerful voice, tells him that if Vicki wanted him to see it, she would have shown it to them. He continues to beg. Vicki says “All right!,” and unveils it. When we were watching the episode, Mrs Acilius exclaimed “All right!?,” appalled at Vicki’s nonsensical decision to yield to David’s pleas despite the cover Laura was giving her. Again, the idea that Vicki’s weird decisions and vague, distracted manner might be symptoms of possession was somewhere in our minds, but since nothing had been shown to give direct support to that idea our emotional reaction suited a Dumb Vicki moment.
As Maggie had suggested she might be, Laura is horrified to see herself depicted in this fiery image. David is thrilled- he had been plagued by a recurring nightmare, one he had described in detail to the deeply concerned Vicki, in which his mother stood in a sea of flames and beckoned him to join her. He asks how Sam knew about his dream- did he have the same dream? Vicki mumbles that he didn’t, that he didn’t know anything about the dream or even why he was painting the picture. The audience may have wondered why Vicki didn’t remember the dream until now- the explanation that fits best with the story is that she has been possessed by the same spirit that possessed Sam, but with so little attention given to Vicki as she was reacting to the painting some very insightful critics have taken it as another Dumb Vicki moment.
David points to a white space in the painting, one the shape of his own head, and asks what goes there. Vicki mumbles that she doesn’t know, and that Sam himself didn’t know. David is delighted with the painting and wants to hang it in his room. He asks Vicki to give it to him. Vicki tells him that his mother will have to rule on that question. Laura hates the painting and tries to talk David out of hanging it, but he is nothing deterred. She finally caves in.
While David goes upstairs with the painting, Laura asks Vicki what she was thinking bringing such a terrible thing into the house. Vicki says she doesn’t know- something just came over her. That goes to show that the writer wanted us to think that Vicki was possessed, which in turn makes it all the more exasperating that he didn’t let us in on it at the appropriate time. The fact that we know the writer wants us to have a reaction doesn’t mean that we actually have it. Confusion pushes people away from a story, and merely intellectual explanations offered after the fact don’t draw us back in.
Vicki, seeming to regain some of her brainpower, goes to David’s room and tries to talk him out of keeping the painting. He dismisses her concerns immediately, without even changing his delighted manner, and hangs it on his wall. Looking at it, Vicki admits that it looks like it belongs there.
Laura enters, and tells David she has changed her mind. She thinks it would be bad for him to have such an image on display, and asks him to get rid of the painting. David responds by threatening never to speak to her again. Laura has just been reunited with David after years of separation, and his initial reaction to her return was confused and traumatic. So it is understandable that she capitulates to this extortion.
It is more surprising that Vicki responds by turning away and wringing her hands after Laura leaves. Usually Vicki scolds David after he is nasty to people, and she has been on a particular mission to break down the barriers between him and his mother. If it were clear that Vicki was under the influence of a spirit and was not herself, this uncharacteristically diffident response might have carried a dramatic punch, at least for regular viewers. As it is, it slides past as yet another Dumb Vicki moment.
Back in the Evans cottage, Sam comes back from his usual night of drinking at the local tavern. Maggie is infinitely weary of her father’s alcoholism, but does smile to hear him reciting poetry and talking about a seascape he is planning to paint. At least he’s happy. Sam goes to his easel to start that seascape, only to recoil as he realizes that he is in fact painting another version of the picture of Laura in flames.
David is asleep in his room. The painting starts to glow. Then Laura’s painted likeness is replaced with a video insert of her face. The insert grows and grows, and David screams for it to stay away.
Maggie’s suspicion that Laura is behind the portrait fits with the many signs the show has given us of Laura’s uncanny nature. Laura’s reaction when Vicki brings the painting home, though, shows us that what has been happening to Sam does not serve Laura’s interests, any more than David’s nightmare did.
I think there are three possible explanations for the origin of the compulsion Sam had to paint the picture, the compulsion Vicki had to claim it, and David’s nocturnal disturbances. It could be that by exposing David time and again to the image of him following her into flames, Laura is gradually wearing down David’s resistance to a horrible idea that will lead to his destruction. In support of this interpretation, we remember the first night Laura was at Collinwood. She was calling David’s name in a quiet voice at the window of her cottage, far from the great house. Yet the sound of her voice penetrated David’s mind as he slept. He writhed on his bed, and went into the nightmare. Laura’s objection to the painting militates against this explanation.
When we were watching the episode, Mrs Acilius suggested a second reading. There might be a lot to Laura. Maybe in addition to the physical presence in the house that wants David to come away with her, there is also a ghostly presence that wants to warn him and everyone else of the danger that implies. That interpretation would fit with David’s sighting, the night Laura first came to the house, of a flickering image on the lawn that looked like Laura. David longed for that Laura to come to him, but reacted with terror when he saw the fleshly Laura in the drawing room. Perhaps there are two of her, and one is trying to protect David from the other. It is also possible that the two Lauras are not aware of each other, or even fully aware of themselves. So this interpretation is easier to reconcile with apparently contradictory evidence.
Vicki’s involvement suggests a third possibility. The ghost of Josette Collins appeared to her and comforted her in episode 126, and an eerie glow had emanated from the portrait of Josette when David left Laura alone in the Old House yesterday. Laura was alarmed to hear that David was interested in the ghosts of Collinwood, had not wanted to go to the Old House, and lies to David when he asks if he saw any sign of Josette’s presence. Perhaps Josette is intervening to thwart Laura’s plans, and it is her power that is benumbing Vicki today. Josette’s previous interventions have been intermittent and subtle, suggesting that it is difficult for her to reach the world of the living. So if she is preparing for a showdown with Laura, we might it expect it to take her some time to recruit her strength.
Again, this is the kind of search for patterns that an audience will gladly go into once you’ve let them know that there are supernatural forces at work in your story. Since Josette has been in the background of the show from week one, has appeared repeatedly, has a set devoted to her in the Old House, and has established connections with both Vicki and David, we might expect her to be the first of the uncanny presences we think of when we enter a supernatural storyline. That she is a tutelary spirit presiding over Collinwood brings it into sharp focus that the estate is under assault from a supernatural force emanating from the town of Collinsport. Today’s failure with Vicki kicks Josette’s ghost out of the spotlight, and that is one of the major faults with the episode.
The writers didn’t always put a lot of effort into Dark Shadows’ opening voiceovers, but today’s is exceptionally dire:
My name is Victoria Winters.
Collinwood is still living up to its name as a ghost-ridden house where deaths have gone unsolved. Except that in this case, the murderer is known. Only his whereabouts are unknown. But much like a wounded animal at bay, he has taken refuge in the one place where he thinks he will be safe. The Old House has already been searched thoroughly, so Matthew Morgan feels this is one place the police will not look again.
“Collinwood is still living up to its name”- it is still in the woods and is still occupied by people called Collins? No, “its name as a ghost-ridden house.” So, it is living up to its reputation, not to its name.
Then we get three short sentences beginning with “Except,” “But,” and “Only.” If the narrator has to issue three retractions in fifteen words, it’s difficult to be optimistic about what will happen when people start exchanging dialogue.
“But much like a wounded animal at bay, he has taken refuge in the one place where he thinks he will be safe.” How does that make him more like a wounded animal at bay than like any other creature who is aware of only “one place where he thinks he will be safe”?
“The Old House has already been searched thoroughly”- that sounds OK, until about 30 seconds into the episode, when Matthew lets himself into a secret chamber of the Old House that only he knows about. When you say a house has been searched “thoroughly,” I for one assume you mean that the searchers figured out how many rooms were in it.
This is the final script credited to Francis Swann. That sloppy, confused narration doesn’t sound like his writing. Maybe he was in such a rush to be done with Dark Shadows that he didn’t bother to take a second look at the opening voiceover once he’d pounded it out of his typewriter.
Or maybe he didn’t write it at all. Malcolm Marmorstein’s name will appear in the credits soon, and Marmorstein was eminently capable of writing something that lousy. The actors have an unusually hard time with their lines today, as if the teleplay got to them later than usual. Swann hasn’t written an episode since #106, and that one felt very much like his farewell. So it could be that Marmorstein was supposed to write this one, got stuck, and Swann came in to bail him out.
Further supporting that theory is a change of texture between the first half of the episode and the second half. After the prologue showing the fugitive Matthew hiding in the Old House, we go to the room in the Collinsport Inn occupied by dashing action hero Burke Devlin. Mrs Johnson, housekeeper at Collinwood and spy for Burke, visits him there. She recaps the last couple of episodes for him. The scene is listless and disjointed, in part because of the actors going up- at one point Clarice Blackburn actually prompts Mitch Ryan with Burke’s next line- but also because they have so little to work with when they do remember what they’re supposed to say.
After Mrs Johnson leaves Burke’s room, strange and troubled boy David Collins drops in on him. Mitch Ryan and David Henesy were always fun to watch together, and they manage to get a good deal of interest out of an opening exchange in which David tries to get Burke to admit that Mrs Johnson is his agent inside the Collins home. They then go into Burke’s kitchen, where they talk about their respective grudges against David’s father, high-born ne’er do-well Roger Collins. That’s an emotionally charged topic, and the kitchen is an intimate space. But the conversation is dull. The actors don’t look at each other very much- even when they aren’t reading off the teleprompter, they keep casting their eyes to the floor, as if they’re having trouble staying awake. You can’t blame them if they are sleepy- there’s nothing new in their lines.
The second half of the episode takes us back to Collinwood, and all of a sudden it comes to life. In the foyer, an authoritative-sounding Mrs Johnson scolds David for not hanging his coat up properly. He then puts her on the spot with his ideas about her and Burke. Once he has her good and nervous, he tells her he’s going to the Old House to talk to the ghosts. Mrs Johnson takes the supernatural very seriously, and responds to that idea with some words spoken in a deeply hushed tone. She finally dismisses him with a brusque command to be back for dinner. After the door closes behind him, she looks about for a moment, pensive. Taking Mrs Johnson through these moods, Clarice Blackburn traces a clear line of emotional development that gives the scene a healthy dose of dramatic interest.
We are then treated to a previously unseen location insert in which David is skipping along the path to the Old House. It’s a lovely little scene, dreamlike and eerie:
David skipping on his way to the Old House
David stands before the portrait of Josette Collins and asks for information about Matthew. The portrait isn’t talking, but Matthew himself appears. David tells Matthew that he doesn’t believe he is a murderer, and that the two of them can investigate and prove his innocence. When David tells Matthew he has no choice but to trust him, Matthew asks “Ain’t I?” Returning viewers remember that in the previous two episodes, well-meaning governess Vicki and reclusive matriarch Liz both asked Matthew to trust them. In response, he tried to kill Vicki, and only his fanatical devotion to Liz kept him from doing the same to her. David’s blithe self-assurance stops Matthew this time, and he agrees to stay in the Old House and let David take care of him.
This episode is the first time we see the secret chamber off the parlor of the Old House. Much will happen there. Another first comes when Matthew is deciding whether to trust David or to kill him. He goes to the window of the parlor. We cut to the outside, and see him in the window thinking murderous thoughts. Many, many times next year and the year after we will see another character, one not yet introduced, in that window, vowing to kill someone or other.
The Old House isn’t the only place where today brings firsts. Up to this point the proper way for people to dispose of their coats when entering the great house of Collinwood has been to fold them and place them on a polished table in the foyer. But this time, David responds to Mrs Johnson’s reproof by taking his coat to a space next to the door where he mimes placing it on a hanger. In later years, we will actually see a set dressing there that can pass for a closet, but for now we just have to imagine one exists.
At the end of Friday’s episode, dashing action hero Burke Devlin and the sheriff caught high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins digging up a fountain pen from under a rock. It appears to be the fountain pen Roger had stolen from well-meaning governess Vicki. Some think that Roger stole the pen and hid it because it is evidence implicating him in the death of beloved local man Bill Malloy. Today, Roger is in the sheriff’s office.
Accompanied by Richard Garner, the Collins family’s lawyer, Roger talks and talks, admitting that he saw Bill that night, badly injured and face-down in the water. He jumped to the conclusion that Bill was dead, and left the scene without notifying anyone. He also admits that he concealed evidence that he believed the police would find relevant to the investigation. As if that weren’t enough, he admits that he lied to the police time and again, most recently the night before, and is caught in yet another lie when he gives a nonsensical explanation of his plan to meet Bill that night.
Roger begins his confess-a-thon
Garner makes only one feeble attempt to interrupt Roger’s torrent of self-incriminating remarks. When the sheriff questions Vicki, Garner takes the opportunity to ask her some questions of his own, questions which produce even more information that is adverse to his client’s interests. On their site Dark Shadows Before I Die, John and Christine Scoleri feature commentary on Garner’s performance from a lawyer friend of theirs. Setting aside the utter hopelessness of Garner’s work from a real-world perspective, this friend analyzes his conduct by contrast with the standards set by other TV lawyers:
This brief addendum will review the competence of Garner using a “TV Lawyer Competency Rating” (TVLCR) scale. This WAG scale is based on my estimation of how a general audience might rate a TV Lawyer’s performance. I have supplemented these TVLCR scores with some comments reflecting real-world practices.
Even by those standards, Garner doesn’t come out very well:
Garner strikes me as the go-to civil attorney for the Collins family who got dragged into this murder case just because they are familiar with him. Based on Garner’s poor competency rating as a TV Lawyer, Roger Collins should fire him and instead reach out to Raymond Burr or Andy Griffith.
Soap operas typically generate suspense by sharing information with the audience that some, but not all, of the characters have. We wonder when the secrets will be revealed, and how those to whom they are revealed will react when they finally get the news.
By the end of today’s episode, all of the characters will know almost everything the audience knows. Even what the characters don’t know, they’ve heard of. For example, Roger and drunken artist Sam Evans have not confessed the guilty secrets they share to any of the other characters, but everyone seems to have figured out more or less what they’ve been up to. Not everyone believes in ghosts, but it’s all over town that Vicki and her charge, strange and troubled boy David Collins, have seen ghosts in and around the great house of Collinwood, and even the most skeptical are not in a hurry to hang around the place after dark.
This is the next-to-last episode credited to writer Francis Swann. Swann will fill in for the new writers a week from Wednesday, but today is really the end of the Art Wallace-Francis Swann era of the show. From tomorrow, the new team of Ron Sproat and Malcolm Marmorstein will be holding the reins. By bringing all the characters up to at least our level of knowledge about the ongoing storylines, Swann is clearing the decks for Sproat and Marmorstein to set up their own crises and dilemmas.
Swann’s great strength is his ability to give actors room to show what they can do. Today’s episode is a case in point. Just when Garner’s disastrous intervention in the sheriff’s questioning of Vicki has led us to wonder if he’s all there, he has a moment when he opens his eyes wide and looks out the window. As Hugh Franklin plays it, that’s enough to make us wonder what’s on Garner’s mind, and to think he might be about to do or say something interesting.
Of course stage veteran Louis Edmonds thunders delightfully as the wildly indiscreet Roger, and of course TV stalwart Dana Elcar does an expert job of presenting the sheriff as a skilled professional firmly in control of the situation. There might be a crying need for a defense attorney to intervene when a suspect is blabbing as freely to the police as Roger is to the sheriff, but there is no need for a third actor to get in the way of Edmonds’ and Elcar’s interplay. Standing in the background between those two, Franklin occasionally gives a slight facial expression that underlines some point or other, but never upstages them.
In the first half of the episode, Alexandra Moltke Isles’ Vicki has to give some long speeches full of recapping, and in those she takes the character through several distinct shades of discomfort. She begins with diffident nervousness, builds up to frightened indignation, and ends with pure sadness.
Later, flighty heiress Carolyn comes into the sheriff’s office and pleads with Vicki to say that her beloved Uncle Roger couldn’t be a criminal. In front of the sheriff and Garner, all Vicki will say is that the two of them should leave. As Carolyn, Nancy Barrett makes the most of the melodramatic turn, but Mrs Isles takes possession of the scene with her few words spoken in a quiet, husky voice we haven’t heard before. Those brief remarks cap the progression we saw her making in her speeches earlier, and define the mood she is still in during a conversation between Vicki and Carolyn in Collinwood later. Vicki’s feeling for the pity of it all holds the episode together, and leads us back into the texture of the life of the family at the center of the story.
Dashing action hero Burke Devlin visits the sheriff in his office. He brings the sheriff up to date on the recent threats well-meaning governess Vicki has faced. He also tells the sheriff that Vicki had found a pen belonging to Burke on a beach, and that he thinks that high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins dropped the pen there while murdering beloved local man Bill Malloy. Burke also thinks that Roger is the one who has been menacing Vicki. He asks the sheriff if he will play along with a scheme that might put some “concrete evidence” behind his beliefs.
In the great house of Collinwood, Roger faces a series of very sharply pointed questions about Vicki’s problems from his sister, reclusive matriarch Liz. He denies everything, including things Liz can prove to be true. He tries to say that Vicki is untrustworthy because she claims to have seen a ghost dripping wet seaweed on the floor in the west wing of the house. Liz reminds Roger that they investigated that claim, and found the wet seaweed just where Vicki said it would be.
The sheriff and Burke show up at the house. In the mood established by their conversation, Liz and Roger are left feeling trapped and small, as this shot none-too-subtly shows:
The sheriff asks to see Vicki. Liz explains that she gave her a sedative and sent her to bed. He then questions Roger and Liz about the stories Burke has told. Liz downplays Vicki’s experiences; Roger makes another attempt to sell the idea that Vicki is nuts because she claims to have seen a ghost. When Burke brings up the topic of the pen, Liz is at a loss- it is the first she has heard of it. Roger tries to brazen it out. When Burke produces a pen identical to the one Vicki found, he flails and finally denies that the pens are at all alike. The sheriff asks Liz to send both Vicki and flighty heiress Carolyn to his office first thing in the morning to examine the pen.
Liz tells Roger that she is confident Carolyn and Vicki will tell the sheriff the truth. When he tells her he needs time to think, she replies that he doesn’t need any time to think of more lies. He declares that there is something he must attend to immediately, and rushes out of the house. Liz watches her little brother leave the house, frustrated in her attempts first to correct his behavior, then to shield him from its consequences.
Roger goes to the peak of Widow’s Hill. He had stolen the pen Vicki found and buried it under a rock there. He digs it up. As he looks at it, Burke and the sheriff appear and thank him for saving them a lot of trouble.
Art Wallace’s original story bible for Dark Shadows had called for Roger to have his final scene on this spot. Vicki was to have found evidence that would send Roger to prison, he was to attempt to kill her by throwing her off the peak of Widow’s Hill. She would avoid that fate when Roger instead went over the cliff himself. As it has worked out, Louis Edmonds is too appealing an actor to lose. So Roger stays on the show as a suspect in an investigation, perhaps as a defendant in a trial. It won’t be the last time Dark Shadows extends an attractive villain’s stay on the show by playing out different events on the set where his story was originally meant to end.
Another action-packed episode from writer Francis Swann. His new colleague Ron Sproat seems to have given him a jolt of energy.
High-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins has been Dark Shadows‘ foremost villain so far. This week’s theme is that well-meaning governess Vicki suspects Roger of murdering beloved local man Bill Malloy. She is terrified of what Roger might do to her, and Roger is terrified she might go to the sheriff. Vicki and Roger scramble to keep up with each other, and draw the other characters into their frantic activity.
Today we divide our time between the great house of Collinwood, where Roger and Vicki live and play their high-stakes game of cat and mouse, and the Blue Whale, a tavern in the village of Collinsport where we see the consequences of their actions ripple out into the broader community. In yesterday’s episode, Vicki and Roger had a talk in which he told her that he did see Bill the night he died, but that he was already dead when he found him. That accounted for the evidence Vicki found, but only increased the tension between them.
We begin and end today in Vicki’s bedroom. In the opening teaser, Roger knocks on her door and lets himself in when she doesn’t answer him. In the closing scene, Vicki’s door is unlocked and opens while she is in bed. This prompts her to scream. When she does, the door quickly closes. Roger comes in seconds later, and implausibly denies that he opened it until after she screamed.
In between, we see Vicki in the tavern, telling Roger’s arch-nemesis, dashing action hero Burke Devlin, what Roger told her yesterday. Burke is incredulous that Vicki seems willing to believe that Roger might be telling the truth this time. She responds “I know you think I’m an idiot, but I can’t help it!” Maybe Bill wasn’t pushed to his death- maybe he was just clumsy and fell without anyone’s intervention. Burke does not contradict Vicki when she tells him he thinks she is an idiot. He urges her to leave town, since Roger might kill her at any time. She insists on staying at Collinwood.
Vicki and Burke leave the tavern. Drunken artist Sam Evans and his daughter Maggie Evans, The Nicest Girl in Town, enter. Maggie tells Sam that she talked to Vicki yesterday. Vicki told her almost everything, holding back Roger’s name but making it clear she can’t be thinking of anyone else. Maggie sees that the idea of the investigation into Bill’s death being reopened and connected with the incident that sent Burke to prison ten years ago disturbs Sam intensely. When Sam answers one of her questions with a lie, she asks “Haven’t you thought of a better one than that?” He mumbles a response, but won’t tell his daughter what he has to be afraid of.
Maggie calls Collinwood. Roger answers, and Maggie asks to speak to Vicki. Returning viewers will remember that when Burke called Vicki in yesterday’s episode, Roger was in the room. Vicki concealed the fact that she was talking to Burke by pretending she was talking to Maggie. Maggie’s call tips Roger off to Vicki’s lie. He tells her that Vicki isn’t home. She tells him that the Evanses are at the Blue Whale, that they haven’t been home all evening, and that they haven’t seen Vicki.
Vicki comes home. She tells Roger she was visiting Maggie at her house. Roger plays along and encourages Vicki to elaborate on this story. At the tavern, Burke had told Vicki she was a bad liar. She proves him right, giving Roger one falsifiable detail after another about her time at the Evans cottage.
After the affair of the door, Roger sees Vicki’s frank disbelief that he will not admit that he unlocked and opened it. Facing her unspoken accusation that he is brazenly lying to her, he casually mentions Maggie’s call. He suggests Vicki call her tomorrow, so that the two of them can get their story straight. He saunters away, having deflated her righteous indignation about his apparent lies.
As Vicki, Alexandra Moltke Isles was one of the cast members who delivered her lines with the fewest stumbles. She has a doozy today, though. When she returns from her conference with Burke, Roger sees her climbing the stairs and calls out to her: “Vicki!” She replies: “Rodgie!” A man you address as “Rodgie” is not someone of whom you are deathly afraid. They have done such a good job building up an atmosphere of tension between Vicki and Roger that this slip is one of the most breathtaking bloopers in the entire series. It’s still a Genuinely Good Episode, but that moment does make you wish for a videotape editor.
Well-meaning governess Vicki has found what she believes to be evidence that beloved local man Bill Malloy was murdered by high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins. She fears that if Roger knows what she has found, he might kill her next. Since Vicki and Roger live in the same house, she has to be careful.
At the end of yesterday’s episode, Vicki had gone to town. In today’s opening scenes, Roger talks with his niece, flighty heiress Carolyn. Carolyn doesn’t know what’s on Vicki’s mind, and has blithely told Roger the vital information. When Roger finds out Carolyn doesn’t know where Vicki is, he asks his son, strange and troubled boy David. David strings his hated father along for a bit with unsatisfactory answers, all the while inviting him to contemplate a drawing of a man being hanged for the murder of Bill Malloy.
After Roger leaves the house, David opens the doors to the drawing room. He lets Vicki out. This is not only the first time in this episode we know that she was in the house. It is also the first time in any episode we see Vicki and David acting in concert as friends. Vicki’s attempt to befriend David has been the one story on the show that has worked every time we’ve seen it. Now that they are working together, that story has kicked onto a higher gear.
A knock comes at the front door. It’s Maggie, The Nicest Girl in Town. Maggie is bringing Vicki’s purse. Vicki is astounded- she hadn’t even missed it, much less realized she left it at the restaurant Maggie operates. Maggie insists that Vicki tell her what is bothering her. After a show of reluctance, Vicki tells her that she has found evidence that Bill Malloy was murdered, that she knows who the murderer is, and that if the murderer knows that she knows of his guilt he will be a threat to her. She therefore dare not share her knowledge with Maggie, lest she expose her to the same danger.
Maggie reacts sharply to this. Her father was suspected of killing Bill until the coroner ruled the death an accident, and her reflex when that ruling is challenged is to defend him. She tells Vicki that “I don’t understand you. You pussyfoot around pretending to be so friendly with everyone, and all you succeed in doing is stirring up trouble. As a matter of fact, all the trouble in Collinsport started the day you arrived.” These are startling words for The Nicest Girl in Town to address to our point of view character. But we don’t see her say them, or Vicki react to them. Instead, the camera is on David, eavesdropping at the door. That the show directs our attention to David even when Vicki and Maggie are having such a dramatic moment leaves no doubt that he is at the center of the most important events going on right now.
While we hear Vicki trying to defend herself, Carolyn catches David spying on them. Vicki and Maggie come out to watch her rough him up.* David runs off, and Carolyn leaves for a date.
Afterward, Maggie presses Vicki for more information. She offers to take her home to spend the night with her and her father, Sam- “unless he’s the one you’re talking about.” Vicki tells her not to be silly. Maggie relaxes. Having ruled Sam out, Vicki makes a remark that also rules out dashing action hero Burke Devlin. Since Sam, Burke, and Roger were the three suspects everyone in town was talking about before the coroner’s ruling, that shouldn’t leave Maggie much difficulty guessing who Vicki thinks killed Bill or why she is uncomfortable in the house.
Francis Swann wrote this one, and he often plays up the similarities between Roger and David. While Vicki, having at first told Maggie she couldn’t possibly tell her anything, is telling her everything, Roger enters from the same door David had used a moment before, and stands at the same spot where David had listened to them.
Like son, like father
When Vicki shows Maggie out and declines her repeated offers to stay with her or to take her home, Roger hides in the shadows of the foyer, as we have seen David do many times. He waits by the door until Vicki comes back in.**
Once Vicki is alone, Roger creeps up on her. He grabs her from behind, covers her mouth, and orders her to keep quiet. Roll credits!
After a few episodes written by Ron Sproat, it is refreshing to get back to one by Swann. Sproat has been good so far at keeping the actors busy, but he doesn’t really understand their craft. Working from a script by Swann, each member of the cast can trace a line of development through the episode that gives the story structure and its events significance. Sproat’s first episodes have had some exciting moments, but the characters in them are just pieces being moved around a board. The excitement, when it comes, is that of watching a well-played chess match. Today, we have people to care about, not just the game the writer has devised for himself to play.
*This sequence is the first time we see all three young women in the same shot. With David Henesy, it also features four cast members all of whom are, as of November 2022, still alive.
Carolyn grabs David
**This is the first we see the wall extending from the door toward the front of the set. It is decorated with a metallic device. The theme of the house would lead us to expect a portrait of an ancestor on a spot like that…
Hardworking young fisherman Joe is spending the evening with Maggie, The Nicest Girl in Town. It’s their first date. Maggie impresses him with her knowledge of ships, and he sings a verse of “What Do You Do With a Drunken Sailor?” It may not sound like much, but the actors, Kathryn Leigh Scott and Joel Crothers, sell it so well that we’ll be rooting for Joe and Maggie for years to come. The final moment of the scene comes after Joe leaves. Maggie looks directly into the camera and says to the audience, “Goodnight, pal.”
Goodnight, pal
In the great house of Collinwood, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins greets his niece, flighty heiress Carolyn, on her return home. Carolyn is upset because Joe has broken off their relationship and is having a date with Maggie. The story of Joe and Carolyn was a bore, largely because the two of them never had a scene with any fraction of the sweetness we see between Joe and Maggie today. There was nothing at stake in their quarrels, because they had nothing to lose if they simply gave up on each other.
Roger tells Carolyn that well-meaning governess Vicki hasn’t been seen for hours, and that he promised Carolyn’s mother, reclusive matriarch Liz, that he would sit up waiting for Vicki’s return. Carolyn is worried as well, and asks Roger why he isn’t actively searching for her. He says she’s probably fine. When Carolyn says that people don’t just disappear, he reminds her of family friend Bill Malloy, who disappeared not so long ago, but then turned up. Considering that Bill turned up in the form of a corpse washed ashore by the tide, it is perhaps unsurprising that Carolyn does not find Roger’s analogy particularly comforting.
After Roger persuades Carolyn to toddle off to bed, he makes sure he’s alone (well, alone except for the stagehand in the lower left-hand corner of the screen.)
Once assured that no one mentioned in the script can see him, Roger returns to the drawing room and opens a secret passage we’ve never seen before. After he disappears into it, Carolyn comes to the drawing room and is baffled at his absence.
The suggestion that Carolyn doesn’t know about the secret passage is characteristic of the show. From the beginning, Vicki has represented our point of view. She started off knowing nothing about the other characters, and everything had to be explained to her while she was on camera. If Vicki knows just what we know, Carolyn, who grew up in the house where most of the action is set, can be presumed to know a great deal we do not. When they reveal a secret to us, they can amplify its importance by showing that Carolyn isn’t in on it. They’ve done this several times, mostly in situations having to do with the murky origins of Roger’s feud with dashing action hero Burke Devlin. Carolyn’s ignorance of the secret passage is particularly effective- it’s right there in the most important room of the only house she’s ever lived in. If she doesn’t know about it, it must be a very well-kept secret indeed.
We go with Roger into the secret passage. He shines his flashlight directly into the camera, creating a halo of light around it. This would not seem to be a desirable visual effect, yet we will see it many, many times in the years to come. This is the second appearance of the effect. The first time came when Roger’s son, strange and troubled boy David, was leading Vicki into the abandoned Old House in episode 70. Now we see it when Roger himself is entering another abandoned space, one where he might meet Vicki.
Halo
It’s hard to believe that the repeated use of this effect was altogether unintentional.
All the more so because of what follows Roger’s entry into the passageway. His journey through it actually does seem to wind through a very large space. In the opening narration, Vicki had said that the house is made up of 80 rooms, retconning the total of 40 given in the second episode. Roger’s trek up one flight of stairs, down another, up a spiral staircase, around corners, past windows, etc etc, seems like it must take him past enough space for at least that many. Perhaps the sequence would be a bit more attractive with less time spent focused on Roger’s feet, but all in all it is as effective a creation of space as Dark Shadows would ever do. If there had been Daytime Emmy Awards in 1966, Lela Swift would have had every right to expect to win Best Director for conjuring up this illusion of vast, winding corridors without editing or going outside the tiny studio space available to her.
Roger does indeed discover Vicki’s whereabouts. He hears her calling for David from behind a locked door, promising David not to tell anyone he imprisoned her there if he will let her out now. Roger does not simply let Vicki out. Instead, he makes some loud noises, then puts on a ghostly, wavering voice and calls out to Vicki that she is in great danger as long as she stays in Collinwood. He seems to be having trouble keeping a straight face when he makes these spooky sounds. Vicki isn’t laughing, and returning viewers aren’t either- in Friday’s episode, she and we saw the ghost of Bill Malloy in the room, and heard that ghost warn her that she would be killed if she stayed in the house much longer.
Once he’s had his fun, Roger opens the door. After another flashlight halo, Vicki recognizes him. Alexandra Moltke Isles gives us one of the finest moments of acting in the entire series, when Vicki throws her arms around Roger, her bodily movement as smooth as any ballet dancer’s but her voice jagged, and says that “David is a monster, you were right!” Up to this point, Roger has been brutally hostile to his son, Vicki heroically friendly to him. Her determination to befriend David has become so central to her character that hearing her make this declaration makes it seem that she is permanently broken.
Broken Vicki
Vicki struggles to hold back her sobbing long enough to tell Roger that she saw the ghost of Bill Malloy. That’s an episode-ending sting- Roger wants everyone to forget about Bill’s death, and if his ghost starts popping up he is unlikely to get that wish.
Stunned Roger
Mrs Isles was a “head actor,” one who found the character’s innermost psychological motivation and worked outward from that. That heavily interiorized style would be one of the things that left her in the dust, along with similar performers like Joel Crothers and Don Briscoe, in the period when Dark Shadows was a hyper-fast paced, wildly zany show about vampires and werewolves and time-travel and God knows what. But in the period when Art Wallace and Francis Swann were writing finely etched character studies, she consistently excelled. In this little turn, she shows that when it was logical for her character to go big, she could go as big as any of the stars of the show in those later days.
Last week’s episodes established that high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins and dashing action hero Burke Devlin are both unpredictable men capable of real cruelty, and that our point of view character, well-meaning governess Vicki Winters, is about to find herself in the middle of a conflict between them. Today, we see that Roger and Burke’s conflict will take the form of a lot of prattling about a fountain pen.
As we open, Vicki is starting a math lesson with her charge, “strange and troubled boy” David Collins. David, son of Roger, has been studying his crystal ball, hoping to find evidence implicating his hated father in murder. Unknown to either of them, Vicki may have stumbled upon just such evidence. While taking a walk on the beach at Lookout Point, she found a fountain pen that Roger may have left there during a homicide. All Vicki knows is that the pen looks nice. She is in a happy mood, and teases David with jokes about the pen. As usual, David refuses to laugh or to cheer up in any way, but he is impressed that the pen looks to be very pricey.
Vicki reclaiming the pen from David
In the restaurant at the Collinsport Inn, Burke invites himself to sit at the sheriff’s table. Perhaps Burke has a crystal ball of his own- he has somehow developed a theory that Roger left the pen on the beach at Lookout Point while killing beloved local man Bill Malloy. The sheriff is unimpressed with Burke’s theory and bored with the whole topic of the pen. In this, he is the voice of the audience. On his blog Dark Shadows Every Day, Danny Horn lists 21 episodes that are largely or entirely dedicated to talking about the pen. I believe it is uncontroversial among Dark Shadows fans to say that 21 episodes was too many for this theme.
Knowing that Vicki has the pen, Roger is close to panic. He succeeds in his second attempt to steal it from David’s room. Between the two attempts, he has offered Vicki thousands of dollars in cash if she will go away and take a job with friends of his in Florida. He has also complied with Burke’s telephoned demand that he go to town and participate in a confrontation about the pen. During this confrontation, the sheriff happens by and earns a cheer from all of us by telling Burke to find another topic.
As the Saga of the Pen begins, the idea that Roger will be exposed as a murderer generates a measure of excitement. Our desire to see justice triumph is in conflict with the fact that Roger is so much fun to watch that we don’t want him to face any consequences that will remove him from the core cast. That is the sort of conflict an audience experiences as suspense.
Today, though, the suspense is blunted. The coroner has ruled Bill Malloy’s death an accident, so the sheriff doesn’t have a case to investigate. Even if there were still a homicide case pending, there is no way of proving that the pen was left on the beach that night. Bill died many days before Vicki found the pen. In that interval, a person, an animal, or the tides could have moved the pen a great distance.
Roger’s conflict with Burke is similarly unconvincing. Burke has searched Lookout Point and knows the pen isn’t there now, and he has no reason to think that it ever was there. He had no reason to summon Roger to town, nor did Roger have any reason to come.
At times, the writing seems to be deliberately tedious. Both the word “pen” and images of the pen are repeated countless times. The sheriff’s exasperation with the topic gets a great deal of screen time, and Roger’s labeling of it as an “endless conversation” is the only memorable phrase in his whole scene with Burke.
The pen was first introduced in episode #42, the second episode written by Francis Swann. Episodes 1-40 were all credited to Art Wallace, who also wrote the original series bible, Shadows on the Wall. Neither the death of Bill Malloy nor the pen is in Shadows on the Wall; those may have been among Swann’s contributions. This is Wallace’s last week on the show. Swann will stick around for another month, leaving after episode #113. I wonder if the tedious parts of today’s script are Wallace’s refusal to try to make Swann’s inspiration interesting, or if they are a positive warning to Swann and the writers who are about to come on board that the Saga of the Pen is going to bore the audience silly unless they rethink it radically.
Dashing action hero Burke Devlin pays yet another visit to the great house of Collinwood. He announces to its residents, the ancient and esteemed Collins family, that he intends to take control of all their properties, including the house. He is buying up their debts and will use them to seize their businesses. He offers to pay them for the house, though. He even offers to pay for it at higher than the market value.
Ne’er-do-well Roger Collins urges his sister, reclusive matriarch Liz, to take Burke’s offer for the house. It’s a huge, gloomy, impractical place, and they would be better off without it. He doesn’t mention that the cash might come in handy when Burke starts calling in all the notes they have no way of meeting. Liz won’t hear of it, and vows to fight.
Flighty heiress Carolyn and well-meaning governess Vicki process their feelings about the matter. Carolyn is wounded by the evidence that Burke never really wanted to be her boyfriend- not that he ever said he did, but she kept hoping. Vicki wonders what Burke is thinking, and whether he understands his own motives. He admits that he may not- after all, if he’s trying to avenge the wrongs the Collinses have done him by bankrupting them and collecting their assets, why not just watch their house fall into his lap with the cannery, the fishing boats, and whatever else they may have, leaving them with nothing?
With this post we say goodbye to one of the bloggers who has kept us company. This was the last episode Marc Masse discussed on his blog Dark Shadows from the Beginning. His posts usually include stimulating insights, sometimes remarkable scholarship, and occasionally material that is in one way or another frustrating. Still, he is always well worth reading.
Among his most extraordinary contributions was about the story of the sabotaging of Roger’s car, a.k.a. The Saga of the Bleeder Valve. That story began when we, accompanying Vicki, saw Burke standing by Roger’s car in episode 13.
Burke tells Vicki that he was looking at Roger’s car because he was thinking of buying one like it, an explanation she finds unconvincing.
In his post about episode 46, Masse includes a long section about similarities between the Saga of the Bleeder Valve and a particular episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour. He convinces me that Art Wallace and Lela Swift had studied that episode. You’ll notice from his screenshots that that John Cassavetes even had the same haircut that Mitch Ryan wore as Burke:
Source material for the missing brake valve storyline on Dark Shadows can also be found in The Alfred Hitchcock Hour anthology series. In the episode Murder Case (season 2, episode 19; aired March 6, 1964), Gena Rowlands plays an actress (Diana Justin) in London married to a rich diamond merchant (Charles Justin) played by Murray Matheson. Diana isn’t really in love with her much older husband Charles, but since he is the main financial backer of a play she is starring in, her success is ensured… that is until the boyfriend she dropped so she could run off to England and start a production company with her rich husband, a struggling actor named Lee Griffin (played by John Cassavetes), manages to wangle his way through an audition and secure a part in the play by getting Diana to pass a good word along to the author and director of the production. Lee gets Diana to agree to resume their former relationship, and in no time the pair are in cahoots to relieve Diana of her marital obligations and in the process secure a huge windfall by plotting to have the old man bumped off. To accomplish this, they arrange for Charles to have an automobile accident; this is where the similarities to the missing brake valve story on Dark Shadows come into play.
One afternoon, on a visit up to the country home where Diana and Charles live, which is situated high up on a hilly area, Lee gets an idea when he comments on how the type of car that Charles drives is famous for its brakes.
To compromise the functioning of the car’s brake system, Lee first uses a wrench to loosen something, probably the bleeder valve…
…after which he pumps the brake pedal several times so there won’t be any hydraulic fluid left for when Charles next gets behind the wheel.
Just after completing the task, and with the wrench still in his back pocket, Charles walks in to find Lee there standing by his car, just like in Dark Shadows episode 13 when Victoria Winters walks into the Collinwood garage to find Burke near Roger’s car. To diffuse the situation, Lee explains to Charles: “I was, uh, just admiring your car. It’s, uh, fabulous!”
That night Lee and Diana have a performance in London; to set the plan in motion, Lee phones Charles from backstage while the play is still on and concocts a story about nearly having gotten into an accident on their drive into London due to a careless young motorist, which left Diana shaken up, and suggesting to Charles that he drive down to London to take his wife home…
…which he agrees to, just like in Dark Shadows episode 15 when Roger agrees to drive into town to meet with Burke at the Blue Whale.
Similar to how Roger in episode 17 is shown to have miraculously escaped with just a sprained arm and a few stitches to the forehead, Charles winds up crashing head on into a tractor that was just starting up the hill; despite that the car ended up a total loss, Charles was extremely lucky in having sustained only a couple of cracked ribs and a slight concussion.
The missing brake valve story on Dark Shadows never really did feel like something that would ordinarily be presented on a daytime serial drama. Instead, thus far Dark Shadows has taken its cue from 1940s film noir for atmosphere, Broadway theater style for acting performances, and nighttime mystery suspense anthology programs for subject matter. Is it any wonder that Dark Shadows would go on to evolve into the cultural phenomenon it would later become? A truly one of a kind blend of widely varying influences.
In his post for episode 76, Masse includes the audio of Joan Bennett singing “Sentimental Moments” in the 1955 film We’re No Angels. I’d never heard of the song, and had no idea she sang. Indeed she was not a Singer with a capital S, but her gentle, precise phrasing is perfect for this strange, sad little tune. I think of it as a farewell to Masse and his blog.
Acilius on Dark Shadows 