gypsies – Dark Shadows Commentary

Episode 749: The kiss of death

In the parts of Dark Shadows set in the 1960s, Louis Edmonds plays Roger Collins, younger brother of matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard. In 1966 and 1967, we saw that Roger had squandered his entire inheritance. He was reduced to living as a guest in Liz’ house and working as an employee for her business. Roger was the show’s first villain. His villainy was confined to a storyline known as “The Revenge of Burke Devlin.” That story never really caught on, and by #201 even Burke Devlin had lost interest in it. Roger receded to the margins, and for the rest of the series Edmonds’ gift for sarcastic dialogue kept the character alive as occasional comic relief.

From November 1967 to March 1968, Dark Shadows was a costume drama set in the 1790s. Edmonds, a costume drama specialist in his years on Broadway, came into his own as haughty overlord Joshua Collins. Joshua’s focus on moneymaking and his determination to preserve the glamour of the Collins family name at all costs placed him at the opposite pole from Roger, a blithe spendthrift pathologically lacking in family feeling. Joshua used his power to cover up all of the tragic and horrible events we saw in the 1790s segment, and imposed a false history in its place.

Now, the show is set in 1897. Edmonds plays Edward, the stuffy eldest brother of the adult members of the Collinses of Collinsport. Edward has Joshua’s imperious demeanor and his determination to conceal the family’s disgraces, but like Roger he finds himself penniless, dependent on his sister’s largess. Yesterday he learned that his youngest brother, libertine Quentin, had killed his estranged wife Jenny. So far, Quentin has been a breezily amoral wastrel, easily recognizable to longtime viewers as a kindred spirit of his great-nephew Roger. But Quentin shocked himself when he murdered Jenny, and he had a terrified look on his face as he tried to sneak out of the house afterward.

Edward intercepted him then and forbade him to go. Edward had learned from Quentin’s girlfriend, Jenny’s former maid Beth, what happened. Edward was in a high dudgeon about the mess Quentin had made, but did not seem particularly surprised or at all grieved. He was quite confident he would be able to hush the whole thing up, and fabricated a story about Jenny falling down the stairs and dying shortly after from a head injury.

What did shock Edward was Quentin’s revelation that Jenny was the sister of one of the neighbors, Magda Rákóczi. Magda is a member of the Romani people, an ethnicity against whom Edward and the rest of the Collinses are violently prejudiced. “You married a Gypsy!” he exclaims in utter disgust. He remained convinced that he could keep the whole thing quiet, and drilled Beth and Quentin in the lies they were to tell Magda and her husband Sandor.

Magda did not give Edward a chance to direct the little play he had written. She found physical evidence indicating Quentin had murdered Jenny, and accused him. When she threatened to go to the police, Edward asked her what she imagined the authorities would do when asked to choose between the word of a Collins and the word of a “Gypsy.” At that, Magda dropped her plan to go to the police and vowed to place a curse on Quentin. Edward dismissed that as “words,” but Quentin is deeply involved in the occult. He is helpless with fear.

Today, Edward calls on Quentin in his room. He finds that Quentin has not slept all night. He continues to regard Quentin’s fear of Magda’s curse with total contempt, but perks up when Quentin says that he has thought of a way to escape it. Returning viewers already know that there is one way wide open to Quentin to escape the curse. He can go to the police and confess that he murdered Jenny.

This, of course, is not Quentin’s idea. He wants to offer Magda $10,000. Neither he nor Edward has that kind of money, but their sister Judith, whom their grandmother chose as her sole heiress, does. Edward says that he might be able to persuade Judith to give him that sum on one condition. Their grandmother’s will left Quentin no property or income, but it did guarantee him the right to live in the great house of Collinwood as long as he might wish. If he will sign documents renouncing that right, Judith might give him the money.

Edward embarrassed by Quentin’s craven mewling. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Quentin drifts off to sleep. He has a nightmare. Sandor and Magda show him Jenny’s body and tell him he can escape punishment if he blesses it. He does so, and Jenny comes back to life. She asks for a kiss. Quentin gives it, and Magda and Sandor laugh. They say that the kiss has sealed his fate- it is “the kiss of death!”

Edward returns with word that Judith will give him his $10,000, but that she has added a condition. Not only Quentin, but Sandor and Magda too, will have to leave the area forever. Quentin promises to make that happen, and signs the papers.

Meanwhile, Magda and Sandor are at home in the Old House on the grounds of the estate. Magda has mixed a potion and told Sandor that “a very old Gypsy woman” once used it to place a terrible curse on someone called “Count Petofi.” All they have to do is trick Quentin into drinking the potion, and the same curse will befall him. Sandor disdainfully replies that he had thought Magda might have come up with a plan that had a chance of working. He can’t imagine Quentin drinking anything they might give him.

They look out the window, and see Quentin coming to the house. They are pleasantly surprised that he is delivering himself. He knocks. They open the door, and he bursts in. Magda makes a great show of telling him he is not welcome and demanding he leave. He tells them about the nightmare, and says he knows that it is part of the curse. He offers them money to lift it. Magda is at first openly offended, while Sandor behaves as if he is tempted. Quentin shows them the money, and Magda plays the part of a woman succumbing to greed. She asks Jenny’s spirit to forgive her, and takes the envelope. She makes a gesture that Quentin takes to be an act of spellcasting. While she counts the money, Sandor says they will have to share a drink to complete the deal. Quentin happily agrees.

Once Quentin has taken the drink, Magda tells him that he has been fooled. The nightmare was not part of any curse, but was simply the voice of his own conscience. She tells him that the drink brought the curse on him, and that he will begin to suffer its effects tonight. She throws the money at him and tells him to take it. He reels away, dazzled by the horror of it all.

Magda’s curse shows the limits of the Collinses’ power. Their prestige and connections enable them to intimidate the authorities so that they need not worry about an insistent police investigation. But their freedom from that concern has allowed Quentin to travel so far into depravity that he has committed murder and brought a curse upon himself. When they encounter someone who will not be intimidated, their only recourse is to money. Magda’s unwillingness to sell her sister’s vengeance for any number of dollars means that the rich Judith would be as powerless against her as are the impecunious Edward and Quentin.

Not only has the Collinses’ station led Quentin to indulge himself in one vice after another until he is so far gone he cannot imagine good behavior, it has led him to assume that everyone assigned to a humbler place in the world can be bought. Sandor and Magda are quite good actors, almost as good as Thayer David and Grayson Hall, and they look very much like people who are tempted to take the bribe Quentin is offering. But even to make the offer shows a complete lack of perspicacity. Jenny has not been dead for twenty four hours, and he somehow supposes her sister is ready to bargain away her memory.

Quentin cannot say he wasn’t warned. His dream told him that Magda and Sandor would trick him into bringing the curse on himself by leading him to believe they were giving him a way to escape the curse. He is so far gone in the symptoms of his over-privileged background that he cannot even interpret this message. Thus we see that the real curse of the Collinses, the obstacle that blocks the sunlight and casts all the dark shadows that shroud them, is their wealth and power. The first ten months of the show made some feints towards developing a social drama about the relations between the Collinses in their house on the hill and the working people in the village below. The village is mentioned nowadays only as a source for victims of the various monsters bred at Collinwood, but the price everyone pays for the Collinses’ exalted position is always front and center.

Episode 746: Madness in her background

Vampire Barnabas Collins rises from his coffin in the basement of the Old House on the estate of Collinwood and calls for his unwilling sidekick, ethnic stereotype Magda Rákóczi. Magda has news for him. She has found madwoman Jenny Collins, estranged wife of libertine Quentin Collins, locked in an upstairs bedroom. Barnabas is not surprised about that. He was the one who locked Jenny there, and before dawn he left Magda a note telling her where Jenny was and instructing her to look after her until he came back to life. But Magda never saw the note. Quentin came to the house and read it before Magda came home. He tried to kill Jenny and was stopped by the timely intervention of his girlfriend, maidservant Beth Chavez. He came back later with another plan to kill Jenny, and that time Magda herself stopped him and threatened to place a curse on him unless he gave up.

Magda and her husband Sandor figured out that Quentin’s siblings, stuffy Edward and spinster Judith, have been keeping Jenny locked up in the great house ever since Quentin left her and she went mad over a year ago. They have also figured out that she escaped from the great house, made her way to the Old House, and that Barnabas saw that she was dangerous and trapped her in the room. They wanted to keep her there until they could make arrangements to take her to a Romani caravan where she could be taken care of. Magda and Sandor felt a responsibility to do this, because Jenny is Magda’s sister.

When Magda interrupted Quentin’s second attempt of the day to kill Jenny, she told him that Jenny was her sister. He was stunned. He had no more idea of this relationship than the audience did until we learned of it yesterday. He was so utterly shocked that his wife was a member of an ethnic group he despises that he went almost two full minutes before making a flip remark about it. That’s a record for Quentin.

Barnabas is also quite surprised to learn that Magda is connected to the Collins family by marriage, but it does nothing to change his plans. He has come to the year 1897 to prevent Quentin becoming a ghost who will ruin things for everyone at Collinwood in 1969, and he says that he dare not change anything that would prevent the events of the years in between from taking the shape they did originally.

This does not make much sense. Barnabas does not know why Quentin became a malevolent ghost, so he has no way of knowing how much history will have to change to prevent that outcome. Moreover, he has been quite reckless with the timeline in many other ways. In #704, Barnabas bit a girl named Sophie Baker, evidently killing her. Sophie wasn’t his only victim- in #740, Magda mentioned that Barnabas’ bite marks had been found on “girls”- plural- in the nearby village of Collinsport. Presumably those girls were dead when the marks were found. So he has already committed more than one homicide, ending the lives of people who would otherwise have worked, had children, and made who knows what other kinds of contributions to the history of central Maine. And he is continually picking fights with people and meddling in matters that don’t seem to have anything to do with Quentin’s future ability to rest in peace.

What Magda does not tell Barnabas is that Jenny at one point during the morning got away from her and Sandor, went downstairs, and saw him in his coffin. Magda frantically tried to persuade Jenny to keep this secret, but Jenny has so little contact with the world everyone else lives in that it would seem unlikely she will remember she promised not to talk about what she saw.

Barnabas is about to climb the stairs to go talk to Jenny when a knock comes at the door. It is Judith. Quentin has told her that Jenny and Magda are sisters. Judith and Magda have a testy exchange, ending when Barnabas orders Magda to go upstairs and see to her sister.

Judith probes to see what Barnabas knows and what he is planning to do. She says that he has seen the family at its worst, and knows all its most horrible secrets. He assures her that he is not interested in passing judgment. He mentions Jenny’s children; Judith tells him she has none, and he says that he thought she did only because she claims to have. The audience has known since #707 that Judith is sending money to a woman named Mrs Fillmore to take care of a problem relating to Jenny; it seems likely that this money is going to care for Jenny and Quentin’s twin children. After a few moments, it is clear to Judith that Barnabas has not penetrated very deeply into the secrets surrounding Jenny, and she begins to relax.

Joan Bennett plays Judith’s behavior very subtly. She is calm, quiet, a bit weary. She moves her eyes slightly from side to side, and occasionally purses her lips at the corners. Judith does not look like someone who has just learned shocking news, but like someone who is trying to figure out how to keep the rest of an old secret once part of it has leaked out. Bennett invites us to conclude that Judith has known of Jenny’s family background for a long time.

Jenny bursts in, sees Barnabas, and declares that he is dead. She saw him in his coffin, she exclaims. This is not much of a cliffhanger ending. Jenny’s whole life is one long mad scene. If anyone starts to doubt whether Barnabas is quite what he seems, all he or Magda or anyone else who might be on his side now has to do is point out that the doubter is echoing Jenny, and they will be instantly discredited. This winds up as another in the long series of strokes of luck that have enabled Barnabas to keep operating for so long.

Episode 745: What I am is what I will be

Broad ethnic stereotypes Sandor and Magda Rákóczi are in the parlor of their home, the Old House on the great estate of Collinwood, quarreling about a locket. Shortly before, Magda found maidservant Beth Chavez and libertine Quentin Collins in the parlor, and she noticed Beth snatch a locket from a table and try to hide it. Beth claimed that the locket was hers, but Magda declared that it was not, and that she knew who it really belonged to. Now Beth and Quentin have left, Magda has the locket, and Sandor is pleading with Magda to stop trying to figure out what it means that the locket is in the house. “She is far away!” he protests.

Returning viewers know that the locket belongs to madwoman Jenny, Quentin’s estranged wife. Unlike Magda, we also know that Quentin’s brother and sister, with the assistance of Beth and another servant, have been keeping Jenny prisoner in a series of cells deep in the great house ever since Quentin left her the previous year. Yesterday Jenny had a strong reaction to Magda’s name, in the course of which she started muttering about Sandor as well, hinting that the Rákóczis are of some importance to Jenny.

Sandor and Magda hear a voice from an upstairs bedroom. They go there, and are astonished to find Jenny. They ask her where she went when Quentin left her; she denies that Quentin ever did leave her, and talks about being locked up in a room. It dawns on Magda and Sandor that the Collinses locked Jenny up in the house and have been keeping her there. Jenny angrily says that yesterday she was horrified when Sandor and Magda’s caravan pulled up at the home she and her husband share, and that she told them never to speak to her again; they tell her that happened years ago. She is shocked and disbelieving.

Sandor and Magda are distressed by Jenny’s madness. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Jenny sneeringly calls Magda and Sandor “Gypsies.” Magda replies “You are a Gypsy, too.” Jenny replies that “What I was is not what I am.” After a few more moments, Magda and Jenny embrace and Magda calls her sister.

The revelation that Jenny is Magda’s sister is one of the most effective twists in the whole series. When Mrs Acilius and I first watched the show through, we were thunderstruck by it. The most amazing thing is that it makes so much sense we couldn’t believe we hadn’t figured it out. The Collinses have disdain for Jenny, not only because their black sheep brother brought her into the family, but also because she is of obscure birth. So when she became mentally ill, why didn’t they just ship her off to an institution and have done with it? The answer is racism. They are not simply embarrassed that Quentin chose an unsuitable wife; they are frozen with horror that a Romani person now bears their family name. They cannot take the chance that anyone, even the staff of a discreet, high-end sanitarium, will learn of this shame, and so they hide her away in their own house.

In #701, the first episode of the part of Dark Shadows set in the year 1897, it was established that Beth came to Collinwood as Jenny’s maid and that it is surprising she stayed after Jenny ceased to be a visible member of the family. In the same episode, Magda mentioned some Romani folklore to Beth, said, “But you wouldn’t know anything about that!,” and laughed tauntingly while Beth looked alarmed. The implication that Beth has been trying to conceal her own Romani heritage, combined with her association with Jenny, was something else we were surprised we didn’t pick up on the first time through the show. Perhaps that is because of the visuals. As Sandor and Magda, Thayer David and Grayson Hall wear heavy brownface makeup and dark curly wigs. As Beth, the tall, wasp-waisted Terrayne Crawford has her own light blonde hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. So it was easy to take Magda’s line as a reflection of something that was in the flimsies months before they cast the part of Beth Chavez with an obviously Anglo actress, and to assume that we would never hear of it again.

There are some flaws on screen today. Early on, Quentin walks in front of a green-screen with a picture of the Old House, and it is ludicrously fake even by the standards of special effects on Dark Shadows.

The real house in this photo burned down about this time, perhaps because it couldn’t stand the disgrace of having appeared in this shot. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Later, there are three goofs in thirty seconds. Sandor leaves Magda alone in the room with Jenny. Jenny is supposed to slam a book down on Magda’s head to stun her, but we can clearly see that the book sweeps through a space several inches to Magda’s left. When Magda falls and Jenny runs out, Sandor isn’t supposed to see Jenny, but the two of them are on screen together and their shoulders actually brush against each other. Once downstairs, Jenny is supposed to try the front door, find it locked, and look for a hiding place. But when she touches the door, it opens, and she has to pull it shut before she can play her scene about being unable to get out.

Episode 702: There are many times. You only have to find them.

We open in the secret chamber in the old Collins family mausoleum, where the woe-begotten Sandor Rákóczi has inadvertently freed vampire Barnabas Collins from his coffin. When dangerously unstable ruffian Willie Loomis freed Barnabas from the same coffin in 1967, Barnabas bit him on the wrist, because ABC-TV’s office of Standards and Practices wouldn’t allow one man to bite another on the neck. But now the ratings are high enough that the network will let Dark Shadows get away with a whole lot more than they would when the show was losing its time slot. So Sandor winds up with two big gashes near his right carotid artery.

Barnabas asks Sandor what year it is. He is shocked to find that it is 1897. The last Barnabas remembered, it was 1969 and he was going into a trance mediated by the casting of I Ching wands. Evidently he had hoped that he would encounter the ghost of Quentin Collins on an astral plane outside time and space and do battle with him for the souls of various characters who live at the great house of Collinwood in the 1960s. But instead he has been transported back to the period when Quentin was alive. In fact, Sandor tells him that this very night Quentin returned to Collinwood after a year away.

A few days before he left on this uncertain and frightening journey into the past, Barnabas reflected that when Quentin was alive, he lay in his coffin. They knew nothing of each other. By that time, Barnabas had been free of the effects of the vampire curse for almost a year. He did travel back in time once before, when he spent episodes #661-665 in the 1790s, and the curse reasserted itself then. So regular viewers should have taken that reflection as a hint that Barnabas might return to Quentin’s time and once more be the vampire he was in his first months on the show.

Barnabas is shocked to find that Sandor and his wife Magda live in the Old House at Collinwood. That was Barnabas’ home when he was alive in the eighteenth century, and he became its master again when he returned in the 1960s. He orders Sandor to get him some clothes; Sandor replies “I won’t get you nothing.” Barnabas tells him that he will do whatever he says. In a very hard voice, he says “You are a Gypsy.” As Sandor, Thayer David indeed wears a stereotypical Romani costume, complete with earrings, a flowing wig, and brownface makeup. It sometimes strikes me as odd that Barnabas’ first meal in 1897 was blackened whitefish. Barnabas follows this ethnic identification with “You know what will happen to you if you do not.” Bram Stoker’s Dracula, published in 1897, made it clear that Sinti and Romani people are experts on vampirism, so I guess Barnabas had some grounds for that statement. At any rate, Sandor does comply.

Magda is on her way to the great house. The mistress of the estate, Sandor and Magda’s patroness Edith Collins, has summoned Magda to visit her as she lies on her deathbed. She wants Magda to read the cards and tell her that her grandson Edward will come home before she dies. As she enters the house, Magda is waylaid by Quentin.

Quentin grabs Magda by the neck. When she protests, he threatens to do it harder. He tells her that when Edith dies, she and Sandor will be thrown off the estate. Magda says she expects that, but Quentin says it needs not be so. If she can persuade Edith to leave all her money to him, he will cut her and Sandor in for 10%. Magda does not agree. Quentin says that he is their only hope, because “I have no prejudices against your kind.” If this is how people with no prejudices against them treat Romani, you can just imagine how the bigots behave.

In fact, you don’t have to imagine for long. After an interlude with Barnabas looking over the interior of the Old House and showing dismay at its poor condition, we return to the great house. Quentin’s older sister Judith comes downstairs and sees Magda. She reacts with unconcealed disgust. Magda excuses herself, and Judith takes Quentin into the drawing room.

Judith closes the drawing room doors, complaining that the servants keep listening in. That is one of many indications that there are no background characters in 1897- everyone is playing an angle. Judith offers Quentin $1500 to go away. Quentin says that he is surprised how highly she thinks of him. He could easily spend that much before dawn, even in the village of Collinsport, and come back the next day claiming to know nothing about it. She mentions something about his word of honor, but neither of them can take that seriously enough to merit a complete sentence.

Quentin insists on seeing their nephew, 12 year old Jamison Collins. Judith complains that it is late and Jamison is asleep, but Quentin says he promised to wake Jamison as soon as he arrived, regardless of the time, and “I keep my promises to Jamison.” When Jamison does come in, Quentin is hiding. Jamison protests that he is too old for such games. Quentin jumps out and startles Jamison. Quentin takes this reaction as proof that Jamison isn’t too old at all, and the two of them share a happy laugh. Quentin gives Jamison a model ship with a plate reading “The Jamison Collins.” Jamison is delighted with this truly thoughtful gift. Judith appears, and Jamison clutches Quentin, shouting “I won’t say it! I don’t want Quentin to leave!”

In 1969, Quentin’s ghost has taken possession of strange and troubled boy David Collins, who like Jamison is played by David Henesy. He wants David to turn into Jamison, in which process he will die. It was to save David’s life that Barnabas meditated upon the I Ching and entered the trance. In this scene we learn that Quentin’s deadly attachment to the image of Jamison had its origin in a healthy love for the living Jamison.

This may suggest a parallel to regular viewers. In his first months on the show, Barnabas was hung up on his lost love, the gracious Josette, and embarked on monstrously evil schemes to turn various living women into vampiric replicas of her. We then had a long flashback to the late eighteenth century, in which we saw that Barnabas and Josette once loved each other and were happy, until a cruel fate ruined everything for them. With Quentin and Jamison, we see that it is not only sexual love, but also the filial love of uncle and nephew that can be twisted into something dark and murderous.

It is not just the audience- Barnabas, too, is thinking of Josette. In the Old House, he meets Magda and demands to know where the portrait of Josette that once hung over the fireplace has gone. “Did you pawn it?” he demands, in a contemptuous tone that admits of no response. He asks who sleeps in Josette’s old bedroom upstairs. When Magda says she does, he declares that he “will not have it!” Magda asks who he is to be so imperious about what he will “have,” and Sandor begs her to be respectful towards him. In view of Quentin’s casual violence towards Magda, Judith’s flagrant loathing of her, and Edith’s hobby of keeping her and Sandor around to amuse her by performing the broadest possible stereotypes of the Sinti and Romani, there can be little doubt that Barnabas’ rage is not just at the idea of a stranger occupying the holy place of his idealized beloved, but at the sight of a member of an ethnic group he has been raised to consider inferior occupying it.

Barnabas lays down the law. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Quentin comes calling. Barnabas hides behind the barred window of the cellar door. Quentin badgers Magda for information about her meeting with Edith, and Sandor says that she is ill and will talk to him tomorrow. Quentin can tell something very strange is going on, but ultimately has to leave without further information.

Once Quentin is gone, it is Magda’s turn to press Sandor for answers. She tells Sandor that Barnabas has “the mark of death” on him, and demands to know who he is. She grabs the hand with which Sandor has been holding a kerchief at his neck and sees the bite marks. She gasps, turns to the cellar door, and exclaims “Vampire!”

Barnabas’ portrait was first seen in #204, he was first named in #205, he first appeared in #210, and he first spoke in #211. But it was not until #410 that anyone spoke the word “vampire” on screen. Up to that point, they had used a number of circumlocutions and ambiguous terms, such as “the undead.” For a while, it looked like Barnabas might not turn out to be a vampire exactly, but some other kind of monster who only occasionally sucks blood, as a treat. It’s a relief that people were more direct in 1897.

Episode 701: Welcome home the prodigal

We begin the part of Dark Shadows set in the year 1897 with an episode featuring a glittering script, a strong cast, and a hopeless director. Henry Kaplan’s visual style consisted of little more than one closeup after another. The first real scene in the episode introduces us to Sandor and Magda Rákóczi, a Romani couple who live in the Old House on the estate of Collinwood. They bicker while Sandor throws knives at the wall. Thayer David really is throwing knives, but since we cut between closeups of the targets and of the actors we cannot see anything dynamic in that action. He may as well be whittling.

Magda ridicules Sandor’s pretensions as a knife-thrower and as a patent medicine salesman, and busies herself with a crystal ball. She tells him that when “the old lady” dies, they will have to leave Collinwood. He says he knows all about that. She wants him to steal the Collins family jewels so that they can leave with great riches. He eventually caves in and sets out for the great house on the estate, more to escape her nagging than out of greed.

Regular viewers will remember that we heard Magda’s name in December 1968. The show had introduced two storylines, one about the malevolent ghost of Quentin Collins and the other about werewolf Chris Jennings, and the characters were starting to notice the strange goings-on that Quentin and Chris generated. The adults in the great house had no idea that Quentin was haunting them or that Chris was a werewolf, so they held a séance in #642. Speaking through heiress Carolyn Collins Stoddard, Magda mentioned “My curse!” and said that “He must not come back!” It was clear in the context of the episode that the “He” who “must not come back” was Quentin. Chris was a participant in the séance, and he broke the circle before Magda could explain what she meant by her “curse.” Séances held in #170 and #281 were cut short by the person whose secret the medium was about to expose; that it is Chris who interrupts this one would suggest to longtime viewers that Magda not only knew Quentin, but that the curse she is about to explain was the one that made Chris a werewolf. Carolyn and her uncle Roger Collins talked a little about Magda in #643, and psychic investigator Janet Findley sensed the ghostly presence of a woman whose name started with an “M” in #648. We haven’t heard about Magda since.

As the living Magda, Grayson Hall manages rather a more natural accent than Nancy Barrett had when channeling her concerns about “my currrrrssssse.” The exaggerated costumes Hall and Thayer David wear make sense when we hear them reminiscing about the old days, when they made their livings as stage Gypsies with a knife-throwing act, Tarot card readings, and a magic elixir. Even the fact that Magda is peering into a crystal ball during this scene is understandable when they make it clear that they are staying in the Old House as guests of the mistress of the great house, an old, dying lady who enjoys their broadly stereotypical antics. But there is no way to reconcile twenty-first century sensibilities to Hall and David’s brownface makeup. Some time later, Hall would claim that one of her grandmothers was Romani. If that was a lie, it is telling that only someone as phenomenally sophisticated as Hall could in the 1970s see that she would need to invent a story to excuse playing such a character.

Objectionable as Sandor and Magda are, their dialogue is so well-written and so well delivered that we want to like them. Moreover, the year 1897 points to another reason fans of Dark Shadows might be happy enough to see Romani or Sinti characters that they will overlook the racist aspects of their portrayal. It was in 1897 that Bram Stoker’s Dracula was published, and it depicted the evil Count as surrounded by “Gypsy” thralls. The character who has brought us on this journey into the past is Barnabas Collins, and upon his arrival he found that he was once more a vampire.

In addition to the strengths of the dialogue, the acting, and the intertext, there is also a weakness in this episode that softens the blow of the brownface. Today the picture is so muddy that it is possible to overlook the makeup. That’s Kaplan’s fault. It would often be the case that one or the other of the cameras wasn’t up to standard, but when the director was a visual artist as capable as Lela Swift or John Sedwick, there would always be at least some shots in a scene using the good camera, and others where the lighting would alleviate some of the consequences of the technical difficulties. But Kaplan doesn’t seem to have cared at all. He had made up his mind to use a particular camera to shoot the Old House parlor with a subdued lighting scheme, and if that camera was not picking up the full range of color, too bad. He’d photograph a lot of sludge and call it a day.

Meanwhile, a man knocks on the door of the great house. He is Quentin, and the person who opens the door is Beth Chavez. We first saw these two as ghosts in #646. Beth spoke some lines during the “Haunting of Collinwood” story, but Quentin’s voice was heard only in his menacing laugh.

We already know Quentin as the evil spirit who drove everyone from the house and is killing strange and troubled boy David Collins in February of 1969. His behavior in this scene is no less abominable than we might there by have come to expect. He pushes past Beth to force his way into the foyer, does not bother to deny that he has come back to persuade his dying grandmother to leave him her money, pretends to have forgotten someone named “Jenny,” makes Beth feel uncomfortable by saying that her association with Jenny makes her position in the house precarious, orders Beth to carry his bags, twists her arm, and leeringly tells her that she would be much happier if she would just submit to his charms. David Selby sells the scene, and we believe that Quentin is a villain who must be stopped. But Mr Selby himself is so charming, and the dialogue in which he makes his unforgivable declarations is so witty, that we don’t want him to go away. He establishes himself at once as The Man You Love to Hate.

In an upstairs bedroom, the aged Edith Collins is looking at Tarot cards. Quentin makes his way to her; she expresses her vigorous disapproval of him. She says that “When Jamison brought me the letter, I said to myself ‘He is the same. Quentin is using the child to get back.'” Quentin replies “But you let me come back.” She says that she did, and admits that he makes her feel young. With that, Edith identifies herself with the audience’s point of view.

The reference to Jamison and a letter reminds regular viewers of #643, when Magda’s ghost caused a letter from Quentin to fall into Roger’s hands. It was addressed to Roger’s father, Jamison, and was written in 1887. It read “Dear Jamison, You must return to Collinwood. I need your help. You must intercede with Oscar. Only you can save me.” They’ve revised the flimsies quite a bit since then; now it is 1897, Jamison is 12, and we don’t hear about anyone named Oscar.

Not about any character named Oscar, anyway. Edith tells Quentin that “Men who live as you do will not age well.” Quentin tells Edith that she ought not to believe in the Tarot, because “This card always has the same picture and people change, even I.” On Dark Shadows, which from its beginning has taken place on sets dominated by portraits, these two lines might make us wonder what it would be like if it were portraits that changed while their subjects remained the same. Oscar Wilde’s Picture of Dorian Gray was published in serial form in 1890 and as a novel in 1891, and it was a sensation on both sides of the Atlantic. The dialogue is so witty that the characters must be well-read, making it quite plausible that Quentin’s remark was meant to remind Edith of the book. Especially so, since Wilde was released from prison in 1897, bringing him back to public notice in that year.

Edith tells Quentin that old and sick as she may be, she can still out-think him. She declares that all of her grandchildren will get what they deserve. All, that is, except Edward. Roger mentioned Edward in #697, naming him as his grandfather and Jamison’s father. Edith says that Edward is the eldest, and therefore she must tell him “the secret.” There is a note of horror in her voice as she says this; Quentin misses that note, and reflexively urges her to tell him the secret. She only shakes her head- the secret isn’t a prize to contend for, it is a burden to lament.

Isabella Hoopes plays this scene lying on her side in bed, a challenging position for any performer. Her delivery is a bit stilted at the beginning, but after she makes eye contact with David Selby she warms up and becomes very natural. I wonder if the initial awkwardness had to do with Kaplan. He held a conductor’s baton while directing, and he used to poke actresses with it. I can’t imagine a person in bed wearing a nightgown would have an easy time relaxing if her attention was focused on him. Once she can connect with Mr Selby, though, you can see what an outstanding professional she was.

Quentin goes to the drawing room, and finds Sandor behind the curtains. He threatens to call the police, and Sandor slinks back to the Old House. Magda berates him for his failure to steal the jewels, and he insists there are no jewels in the great house.

Meanwhile, Barnabas is in his coffin, trying to will someone to come and release him. In #210, dangerously unstable ruffian Willie Loomis had become obsessed with Barnabas’ portrait in the foyer of the great house, so much so that he could hear Barnabas’ heart beating through it. Barnabas called Willie to come to the secret chamber in the old Collins family mausoleum where his coffin was hidden. In his conscious mind, Willie thought he was going to steal a fortune in jewels. His face distorted with the gleeful expectation of that bonanza, he broke the chains that bound the coffin shut, and Barnabas’ hand darted out, choking him and pulling him down.

In the Old House, an image suddenly appears in the crystal ball. We can see it, the first time they have actually projected an image in such a ball since the first one made its debut in #48.

Picture in picture. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Magda notices the image, and tells Sandor to look. He recognizes the old mausoleum. She says that the jewels must be in “the room,” implying that they already know about the hidden panel and the secret chamber behind it. Sandor says it is absurd to imagine Edith going to and from the mausoleum to retrieve pieces of her jewelry collection. Magda ignores this, and urges him to go there. He reluctantly agrees to go with her.

The two of them are heading for the door when they hear a knock. It is Beth, come to say that Edith wants to see Magda. Edith wants what she always wants- to be told that Edward will return before she dies. Sandor says Magda can’t go, but Beth says she will regret it for the rest of her life if she does not. Magda tells Sandor to go on his way without her, and says that she will bring Edith some ancient Gypsy cards, cards older than the Tarot. When she talks about Romani lore, Magda taunts Beth- “but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Her sarcastic tone implies that Beth has tried to conceal her own Romani heritage.

Sandor opens the secret panel and looks at the chained coffin. He tells himself the jewels can’t be hidden there, then decides he may as well open it anyway- if he doesn’t, Magda will just send him back. Longtime viewers remembering the frenzy in which Willie opened the coffin in #210 will be struck by the utterly lackadaisical attitude with which Sandor performs the same task. Men’s lust for riches may release the vampire, but so too may their annoyance with the wife when she won’t stop carping on the same old thing.

When Willie opened the coffin, it lay across the frame lengthwise and he was behind it. When he raised the lid it blocked our view of his middle. We could see only his face when he realized what he had done, and could see nothing of Barnabas but his hand. The result was an iconic image.

Farewell, dangerously unstable ruffian- hello, sorely bedraggled blood thrall. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

When Sandor opens the coffin, its end is toward us. We see Barnabas at the same time he does. Barnabas’ hand darts up, and also for some reason his foot. The camera zooms in as Barnabas clutches Sandor’s throat. Unfortunately, the shot is so dimly lit that not all viewers will see this. My wife, Mrs Acilius, has eyesight that is in some ways a bit below average, and she missed it completely, even on a modern big-screen television. It’s anyone’s guess how many viewers would have known what was going on when they were watching it on the little TV sets of March 1969, on an ABC affiliate which was more likely than not the station that came in with the poorest picture quality in the area. As a result, the image that marks the relaunch of Barnabas’ career as a vampire is nothing at all. There is so much good stuff in the episode that it easily earns the “Genuinely Good” tag, but Kaplan’s bungling of this final shot is a severe failure.