kinescopes – Page 3 – Dark Shadows Commentary

Episode 260: One, two, away they flew

Maggie Evans, The Nicest Girl in Town, has been a prisoner of vampire Barnabas Collins for a long time now. Barnabas is planning to kill her tonight. We spend the opening scene with Barnabas’ sorely bedraggled blood thrall, Willie Loomis. We hear Willie’s thoughts as he does the housekeeping. Willie wishes he could save Maggie, but Barnabas has too much power over him. The most he can do is bring her a poisoned glass of milk and invite her to drink it if she wants to die an easy death.

Willie is not Maggie’s only friend. The ghost of Barnabas’ nine year old sister, Sarah, materializes in Maggie’s cell. Sarah asks Maggie why she is crying. Maggie tells her that if she doesn’t get out of the cell very soon, she will die. Sarah is distressed to hear this- “You mustn’t die- I don’t want you to die.”

Maggie hasn’t figured out that Sarah is a ghost, and keeps asking her how she manages to get in and out of the cell. Sarah usually evades this question, but now she says that there is a way. She came upon it accidentally, long ago, and her father ordered her not to tell anyone, not even her brother. She will be punished if she tells. If her father put her in the prison cell in their basement intentionally, Sarah’s fear of punishment is quite understandable.

Sarah overcomes her fear sufficiently to share a riddle with Maggie which she says will give her the answer:

One, two, away they flew.

Three, four, by the door.

Five, six, count the bricks.

Seven, eight, the clue is “grate.”

Nine, ten, home again.

Maggie asks Sarah to repeat the riddle, and she says she can only say it once. Maggie tells her where to find her own father, Sam Evans, and asks her to tell Sam that she has seen her. Sarah disappears.

Sarah’s fear of punishment will ring a bell for regular viewers. Strange and troubled boy David Collins is so intensely afraid that his father, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger, will punish him by sending him away to a boarding school or a jail that he tried to murder Roger. Later, David left his favorite person, well-meaning governess Vicki, to be decapitated by crazed handyman Matthew Morgan because he was afraid that if he helped Vicki his father would find out he had earlier defied him and would punish him. Now, Maggie is in mortal danger because another Collins child, one who lived in a previous century, has a similar fear of punishment. The cell in the basement of the Old House was there before slavery was abolished in the area in 1783; perhaps Sarah’s fear and David’s are a bequest from the slaves and indentured servants whom their forebears locked up in it.

We cut to the Evans cottage. Sam is an artist, and is working. Sarah materializes in the living room. Sam had locked the door and Sarah won’t explain how she got in, but he seems to be delighted with her anyway. She is impressed with his paintings and asks him to paint a picture of her. He offers a drawing instead. When she agrees, he picks her up and sets her on a stool. She flashes a grin at being picked up. She asks if she can keep the drawing when he is done with it.

The most fun Sarah has had the whole time she’s been dead

Sam tells Sarah that her dress is very pretty. He then mentions that you don’t see many dresses in its style. She asks if that means he doesn’t like it. When Sam says that all he means is that it isn’t the sort of thing other little girls wear, she says she doesn’t play with other little girls so she doesn’t care what they wear. She seems to be getting worked up about this, so Sam calms her down with, “All right, all right, I see.” This little exchange gave my wife, Mrs Acilius, a laugh. Sarah may have been born in the same year as Jacob Grimm, but she is very much a nine year old girl.

While Sam draws Sarah, she steers the conversation to Maggie. She asks Sam if he looked for Maggie on the beach under Widow’s Hill. He says he’s looked everywhere he could. She repeats her suggestion that he look for her on the beach. He says he is sure he won’t find her there. She responds “You might, if you go there tonight.” Disturbed by this, Sam looks up, and finds that Sarah has vanished.

This surprises us almost as much as it surprises Sam. Sarah had made it clear that she very much wanted to keep the drawing, yet she disappears before Sam is finished. Evidently, it wasn’t within her power to stay.

Back in the cell, we see Maggie and hear her thoughts as she tries to remember Sarah’s riddle. Like Willie’s voiceover internal monologue in the opening scenes, Maggie’s goes on too long. We can see that Maggie is in an upsetting situation and understand why Sarah’s presence confuses and distracts her. That makes it clear she would have difficulty remembering the exact wording of the riddle, but we really don’t need to hear her go over every part of it.

By the time Maggie finds the loose brick that triggers the opening of the secret panel, Barnabas is already rising from his coffin. We cut between Barnabas walking through the basement and Maggie struggling to open the panel. It may sound like we’re describing filler when we say that we see Barnabas traversing three distinct corridors between his coffin and Maggie’s cell, but it doesn’t feel that way. Not only do these shots build suspense as we wonder if Maggie will get out before he reaches her, but in Barnabas shown as a hunched, solitary figure in narrow spaces sketched in shades of gray we see the representative of a world bleak beyond endurance. We can see why the first serious feature film about a vampire, F. W. Murnau’s Nosferatu (1922), devoted so much screen time to showing Count Orlok skulking about the corridors of his castle.

Maggie crawls into the secret passage. She doesn’t close the panel behind her. Not only doesn’t Maggie know that Sarah is a ghost, she doesn’t know that Barnabas is Sarah’s brother. When Sarah says that not even her brother knows about the secret panel, she is telling us, but not Maggie, that Barnabas is unfamiliar with this way. We know that if Maggie had closed the panel, Barnabas wouldn’t have known where to look for her, and so we might yell at the screen urging her to do that. But since it is his house, she has to assume that he does know about the panel, and she knows that he might be at the door any second. So it is rational for her to forget the panel and use all of her time moving forward.

The gap between Maggie’s knowledge and ours again adds to the suspense as we watch her flee from Barnabas through the twisting passages beyond the panel. We only see one path, but the looks on the actors’ faces as they look from side to side tell us that there are several. Maggie is moving cautiously, choosing her way with care, the sensible thing to do if Barnabas is familiar with the passages. Since we know that it is new to him as it is to her, we want her simply to pick a path and run.

Maggie finds two heavy doors, both of them apparently stuck. Barnabas looks around, seems bewildered, and takes a breath. He shouts a speech at Maggie, claiming that she has no chance of escape because he can hear her. He can’t hear much while he’s shouting, so we want her to take advantage of that and bash away at one of the doors during his speech.

Barnabas wondering at part of his house he never knew existed

Maggie with two closed doors in front of her and an angry vampire behind her

This episode ends the 52nd week of Dark Shadows. When ABC* picked the series up in 1966, it gave executive producer Dan Curtis a 26 week commitment, carrying production to #130. After that, the network renewed it for the then-standard 13 week period. The first renewal carried them to #195, the second to this episode. Until just a couple of months ago, the ratings were so low that no one thought it was likely that it would get a third renewal. When the vampire was introduced in April, viewership started to pick up, preventing cancellation and requiring them to come up with a story that they could keep telling.

I do think we can see traces here and there of the original plan. The first part of the plan seems to have been to copy Bram Stoker’s Dracula far more thoroughly than they wound up doing.

The two female characters on the show who had or were about to have boyfriends when Barnabas was introduced were Maggie and Vicki, who are both seeing men who are cut out to be stout-hearted action heroes. The two female characters in Bram Stoker’s Dracula who had boyfriends were Lucy Westenra and Mina Murray, who were both seeing men who emerge as stout-hearted action heroes. Dracula feeds on Lucy, prompting several other people to band together to try to save her. Dr John Seward, MD, contacts his old Professor, the brilliant Abraham Van Helsing, to advise the group. Despite their best efforts, Lucy dies and rises as a vampire, the “Bloofer Lady” who feeds on the children of east London. Lucy’s boyfriend has to destroy her body to free her soul of the vampire curse.

If the show was about to be canceled, it would have been a favor to Kathryn Leigh Scott to have Maggie suffer Lucy’s fate. Going out with a splash like that would certainly have given her something to lead with as she looked for her next job. But once it was decided that the show would continue beyond #260, it was out of the question to lose a character as popular and versatile as Maggie. When the network ordered 65 more episodes, Maggie had to be saved.

The Van Helsing analogue was actually named on screen. In #242, the show’s equivalent of Dr John Seward, addled quack Dr Woodard, said that he was going to call in a specialist to consult on Maggie’s case, a Dr Hoffman, who is “one of the best men in the field.” We haven’t heard about this man since Dan Curtis found out the show was going to be renewed, suggesting that they’ve abandoned the idea to hew quite so closely to Dracula.

In Stoker’s novel, once Van Helsing has corrected the group’s knowledge deficits concerning vampires, Mina emerges as its leader. Attempting to be gallant, the men cut Mina out of their operations, with the result that Dracula escapes them and bites her. Mina is able to resist his influence so far that she can play a pivotal role in the Count’s final destruction.

The first time Dark Shadows modeled a storyline on Dracula, the menace was not a vampire, but undead fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins. In that arc, the men formed a group of stout-hearted heroes advised by Dr Peter Guthrie and led by well-meaning governess Vicki. Guthrie and Vicki were plainly Van Helsing and Mina. Laura killed Guthrie, so he can’t come back to help in the fight against Barnabas, but Vicki is still around, still the chief protagonist, and still the one likeliest to lead the opposition to a villain.

Indeed, Barnabas has expressed interest in Vicki as a replacement for Maggie, and in #233 he blurted out an obvious threat when he realized she was getting uncomfortably close to figuring out the truth about him. So, had Dark Shadows ended with this episode, it is likely that it would have ended with Vicki overcoming Barnabas’ power and driving a stake through his heart.

Of course, the vampire is the source of the ratings, and Vicki and Maggie are needed for future story development. So the makers of the show can’t use any of those plot elements. What in the world they can do is a question that does not, as yet, have a clear answer. So they have been stalling and stalling. Sooner or later, the stalling will have to end.

*The American Broadcasting Company, that is, not the Australian Broadcasting Corporation.

Episode 194: Traces of fear

The residents of the great house of Collinwood stand around recapping the series so far. The only unanswered question that comes up is matriarch Liz’ extreme reluctance to leave the house.

Regular viewers could probably explain that to the characters. She has nowhere to go. She conducts the family’s enterprises from the drawing room, doing paperwork on a coffee table and holding meetings on the couch. The only room we’ve seen in the headquarters of the company is the office assigned to her brother Roger, and no work is done there. Since dashing action hero Burke Devlin is supposed to be a major corporate raider and he runs his business from his hotel room, the show takes a firm stand in favor of remote work.

The only spaces for socializing that we’ve seen are the Blue Whale tavern, a downscale hangout which wouldn’t have much to attract Liz, who is such a grand lady that she is played by Joan Bennett, and the restaurant at the Collinsport Inn, which is part of her adversary Burke’s territory. The only private home that has appeared is the cottage occupied by drunken artist Sam Evans and his daughter Maggie, The Nicest Girl in Town, who represent the working class in Collinsport and upon whom the head of the Collins family decidedly does not call. We’ve also paid two visits to the Pine Hotel in Bangor, Maine, whence hapless fountain pens are launched on endless journeys. That leaves the sheriff’s office, the crypt at the old cemetery, and the waterfront as the only places not on the grounds of the estate we’ve seen more than once. There doesn’t seem to be any reason why Liz, or anyone like her, would ever want to go to any of those places.

So if they are going to launch a storyline built around the question of why Liz is a recluse, they are going to have to show us someplace she might like to go. If we know that she doesn’t have anywhere to go, we won’t be in suspense as to why she isn’t going there.

Related to Liz’ reclusiveness is her concern that no one go into certain parts of the house. This is such a dead end that not even the other characters take an interest in it. When she asks if, during her recent absence in the hospital, the late and much-missed parapsychologist Dr Guthrie went into the basement, well-meaning governess Vicki almost yawns while responding “Oh, sure, he went down there.” The show didn’t bother putting Guthrie’s explorations of the house on screen, and the audience never heard him talk about anything he found there. Vicki makes it clear to Liz that he never talked about it to her, and regular viewers will remember that she was his chief contact.

Today, we learn that Liz has been wearing a chain around her neck with a key at the end for years, and that it hasn’t occurred to anyone to ask what the key unlocks. When Roger casually puts that question to her today, she angrily tells him that they shouldn’t question each other. Later, we see her use the key to open the door to a locked room in the basement. When Vicki finds Liz coming out of that room at 2:40 AM, Liz explains that she went there because she was having trouble sleeping. Evidently it is such a dull place that going there can cure insomnia. With scenes like these, they are signaling that only Liz ever thinks about the basement, and that when she takes note of the attitudes of the people around her not even she believes that there is anything there worth paying attention to. Since Liz’ interest in the basement is the only plot point we get all day, that is not a recipe for excitement.

Vicki finds Liz trying to cure her insomnia

In their post about this episode, John and Christine Scoleri pick up on Vicki’s remark that Guthrie explored the great house of Collinwood very thoroughly. John mentions that the show didn’t put any of that exploration on screen, and Christine responds with a series of images with Guthrie inserted into various rooms of the house. It’s hilarious, you should take a look.

Episode 193: Portia Fitzsimmons

Drunken artist Sam Evans receives an unexpected visitor to his cottage. She is famed art dealer Portia Fitzsimmons, and she is magnificent.

Mrs Fitzsimmons, as she insists on being addressed, was in a junk shop earlier this week, where she found two of Sam’s paintings available to buyers of the frames they were in. The paintings were done ten or twelve years ago, and she declares that they are in a style that will soon become fashionable. If Sam can come up with a dozen more canvases from that period, he will have a one-man show at her gallery, and he will become famous. With that fame, he may even be able to sell some of his newer paintings, countless of which have been collecting dust around the cottage for years on end.

This was the very first scene of Dark Shadows I ever saw. I’d heard of the show when I was a boy in the late 70s and my mother was watching whatever daytime soap she was into. I heard her say something like, “Ooh, they’re going to turn into Dark Shadows.” I asked her what Dark Shadows was, and she explained that it was a soap opera that had been on about ten years before which introduced a vampire as one of the regular characters. At that age, I thought of soaps as the dullest thing in the world. I wasn’t particularly into vampires, but they were obviously too interesting for the televised sleeping pills that beamed into our living room for an hour every afternoon, so I followed up with some more questions. She had never watched the show, so all she could tell me was that it started as a more or less conventional daytime serial, added a vampire, and became a hit.

When the 90s came along and I got cable TV in my apartment, that was still all I knew about it. So when I saw that the Sci-Fi Channel* was showing Dark Shadows, I decided to take a look. There is no suggestion of vampires in this one, but Portia Fitzsimmons is such a dynamic character that I could see that the show was capable of being pretty lively without them.

Actress Lovelady Powell has two physical abilities that enable her to give us something fresh to look at every second the camera is on her. First is her remarkably mobile face. Her left eyelid alone is capable of a wider variety of expressions than most performers can produce with their entire physiognomy. Since it is her left eye that is focused on Sam throughout the scene, that eyelid is going to be the crucial body part in her delineation of their relationship, but she uses it with remarkable facility. Focus on her left eyelid in these three images, and see how it does most of the work in taking her in a few seconds from delighted to dismayed to dismissive:

Those three images show a major shift in mood. The same eyelid can also modulate finer shades of feeling. In this sequence a few moments later, the left eye is partially obscured, but still shows precisely what is going on when Mrs Fitzsimmons gives Sam his marching orders:

Powell not only made excellent use of the fine muscles of her face, but of her limbs as well. So her second strength is her style of movement. She walks around the set continually, making many wide, sweeping gestures. If those seemed to be a number of distinct motions, she would be a hectic, distracting presence. But in fact, it all comes together as an uninterrupted flow, and defines the entire performance space in terms of her action and her presence. This is difficult to illustrate with still images, but if you look at how she uses her elbows in this sequence I think you’ll get the idea:

I think an actor could watch this scene a dozen times and learn new things from every viewing.

All these techniques for establishing visual dominance pay off in the scene. Sam is an artist who has so utterly despaired of finding an audience for his art that it simply does not register with him that a famous art dealer has come calling. Returning viewers will remember that Sam has been moping around feeling sorry for himself since his first appearance in episode 5. Two weeks ago, in #184, he told his daughter Maggie that it was too late for him ever to have a one-man show and that all he could ever hope for was to sell a few paintings to tourists every summer. Within minutes, Mrs Fitzsimmons has changed all of that. She watches Sam’s reactions as she turns his life upside down, and visibly calculates the particular sort of flourish with which she will deliver each of her lines. When he tells her that he thinks he will be able to assemble enough paintings within a week, she stands in the doorway and replies that she is sure he will be able to do it then, “if you can do it at all.” She then pirouettes away and wafts off whence she came.

When I first saw the scene, I wondered how big a part Mrs Fitzsimmons would play in the storylines to come. I still remember seeing the name “Lovelady Powell” in the closing credits. With my work schedule at the time, I didn’t have a chance to see another episode for months, and when I did join it again there was no sign of Portia Fitzsimmons. I assumed she’d been written out, perhaps to return in some later narrative arc, perhaps because Lovelady Powell had gone on to bigger things. It came as quite a surprise to learn that this was her only appearance on Dark Shadows, and that her acting career never really took off.

Now that I’m on my second complete viewing of the series, it’s an even bigger surprise. The portraits of the ancestors of the ancient and esteemed Collins family are among the most prominent visual features of the chief sets, those representing the great house of Collinwood. Portraits there and elsewhere, including in the long-abandoned Old House at Collinwood and in the Evans cottage, have repeatedly been shown to have supernatural power, representing a bridge between the world of the living and that of the dead.

Further, every storyline that has been resolved so far has centered on strange and troubled boy David Collins. The show has gone out of its way to show that David has promise as an artist. David Collins is nine, and actor David Henesy turned ten in October of 1966, but the character is unusual enough and the actor is sophisticated enough that it would be interesting to see David interact with the grand dame of the New York art world.

An art connoisseur is therefore as well-positioned as anyone to act as a guide to the uncanny realms into which the show will be venturing from now on. Combining Portia Fitzsimmons’ claim to expertise with her imperious personality and Lovelady Powell’s sophisticated acting style, you’d have a character who could carry us right through the whole series. The producers will be hard-pressed to find another actress who can play as worldly and forceful a Vergil to the various Dantes who will be exploring Collinwood’s weird infernos.

Sam’s reaction to Portia Fitzsimmons’ command that he bring her a dozen canvases that he painted ten or twelve years ago puzzled me on my first viewing, and puzzles me in a different way now. The only group of works that fill that bill are in the possession of high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins. Sam sold them to Roger ten years ago for $15,000. Roger likes money, a point made clear in his scene with Sam today. If Sam simply telephoned Roger and told him that the famous Portia Fitzsimmons wants to show the paintings in her gallery and sell them at a great profit to Roger, no doubt he would be eager to find them and make the deal.

Sam does not do anything so straightforward. Instead, he visits Roger at Collinwood. Roger responds to his presence by railing at him, declaring that he never wants to see him in the house and wants him to leave immediately. Sam then insists that Roger give him the paintings. When Roger asks why, Sam denies that any part of the $15,000 was a payment for the paintings. He starts to explain that it was hush money Roger gave Sam to ensure he kept a secret Roger wants withheld from dashing action hero Burke Devlin.** Roger looks around in terror when Sam starts talking about the secret, then orders him never to speak of the matter again. Sam says he will tell Burke all about it unless Roger produces the paintings. Roger dismisses Sam’s threat, but does offer to sell him the paintings for $50,000, unless it turns out that he destroyed them or lost them somewhere along the way.

Now that I’ve seen episodes 1-192 a couple of times, I know that Sam hates Roger, hates himself for taking Roger’s money and betraying Burke, and wants to start a new life in which Roger will have no part. But his undisguised attempt to blackmail Roger into handing over the paintings isn’t really in character for Sam. His tortured conscience has hobbled Sam time and again in his attempts to stand up to Roger. Besides, Sam just had a harrowing encounter with the supernatural in the form of Roger’s estranged wife, blonde fire witch Laura Collins, and that experience seemed like it would make him a kinder and more thoughtful man. That his first act after emerging from it is to commit an out-and-out felony is a disappointment to me.

My wife, Mrs Acilius, wasn’t disappointed. She likes the scenes when Sam is sober enough to stand up to Roger, and she sees this as one of the strongest of those. While she acknowledges that Sam is not being rational, she cheers for his desire to press to the hilt his advantage over the rich so-and-so who has been a blight on his existence for so long.

In the local tavern, The Blue Whale, Maggie Evans is having a drink with her boyfriend, hardworking young fisherman Joe. The camera focuses on a man in a seaman’s coat and captain’s hat sitting at the bar, eavesdropping on their conversation. When they mention Collinwood and reclusive matriarch Liz, the sailor perks up and approaches them.

He apologizes for listening to their conversation, but goes on to ask a series of questions about its content. When Joe makes it clear he does not welcome the intrusion, he apologizes again, while in the act of sitting down with them. When they are finally getting rid of him, he says that it is terribly sad that Liz never leaves her home, and while speaking of that terrible sadness flashes a huge grin. He gives his name as Jason McGuire.

So we are introduced to a second new character in this episode. This one is apparently going to get some kind of storyline started. The actor is talented and the scene has some good things in it, but Jason McGuire is no Portia Fitzsimmons.

*As it then was known.

**A sketch of Burke is on display in Sam’s cottage today. The Dark Shadows wiki speaks with the voice of fans everywhere when it says that Sam tore up a sketch of Burke in #41 and therefore should not have this item now. But Sam made that sketch as part of his preparation for painting a full portrait of Burke. Artists make more than one sketch when they are getting ready for a major painting, so the fact that Sam tore up one sketch doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have any number of others lying around.

Episode 83: I resign from the idiots union

In the great house of Collinwood, well-meaning governess Vicki makes unsuccessful attempts to reason with strange, troubled boy David and with David’s father, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger. At the restaurant in the Collinsport Inn, it dawns on hardworking young fisherman Joe that Maggie, The Nicest Girl in Town, would like to date him.

A fancy fountain pen Vicki found on the beach has gone missing from David’s room. After the two of them have spent a few relaxed moments looking for it, David declares it isn’t in the room. He suggests a ghost might have taken it. Rejecting this possibility out of hand and seeing no other explanation, Vicki concludes that David must be hiding the pen from her. She calmly asks him to return it; he indignantly denies having taken it. Exasperated with him, she raises her voice.

We cut to an outdoor setting, where we see Roger burying the pen. The audience saw him steal the pen at the end of yesterday’s episode. Roger is afraid the pen will be a piece of physical evidence implicating him in a homicide, so he is desperate to get everyone to forget that it exists. Why he doesn’t throw it in the ocean, or in a trash can, is never explained.

Roger returns to the house and hears Vicki and David yelling at each other about the pen. He goes upstairs to make inquiries. He takes David’s side, leaving both David and Vicki staring at him in astonishment. Roger then talks privately to Vicki, and urges her to forget about the whole thing. She reluctantly agrees never to speak of the pen again, to anyone. Roger visits David in his room, extracting the same promise from him. David tells Roger that he will get even with Vicki for her false accusation against him. Roger, eager as ever to get Vicki out of the house, has no objection to that idea. David glares out the window, looking directly into the camera and muttering to the audience that he will settle his score with Vicki.

David tells the audience of his plans. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die

The B-plot is much friendlier. Joe and Maggie are nice, attractive young people who have known each other for a long time, have fun together, and share many interests. Maggie is single, and Joe is at the end of a dull and mismatched relationship with flighty heiress Carolyn. There is no reason why they shouldn’t become a couple.

In fact, that is their biggest problem. As soap opera characters, they can have a romance if and only if there is some obstacle between them they will have to overcome in a dramatic fashion. Maggie and Joe are so obviously well-matched that generating such an obstacle will require the writing staff either to dig deep into the characters’ psychology and to expound that psychology in a superlatively well-crafted plot, or, if that is beyond them, to do something dumb like have them get bitten by vampires.

Joe stops by Collinwood to see if he can talk to Carolyn. Vicki tells him that Carolyn isn’t around, but asks him to stay for a while anyway. Vicki is nervous. She explains that “You don’t know what it’s like to be alone in this house with David.” Joe asks Vicki if she thinks he is an idiot for trying to resuscitate his relationship with Carolyn. When she can’t say he isn’t, he announces that he’s resigning from the idiot’s union and leaving for a dinner date. We know that he’s going to Maggie’s house, but he doesn’t tell Vicki that.

Joe may be resigning from the idiot’s union, but it looks like Vicki is ready to fill his place. David looks at her with undisguised hostility and tells her that he has indeed hidden her pen. When she asks where it is, he points to the closed-off part of the house. Vicki tells him no one can get in there; he shows her a key, and says that no one but he can. She is clearly on edge throughout the whole scene. After some protest, she follows this person she has just said she fears into a locked area to which he has said only he has the key. All that’s missing is a gigantic sign made of electric lights spelling out the words THIS IS A TRAP.

Future writing teams will gradually transform Vicki from the intelligent, appealing young woman we have come to know into a fool who will get them from one story point to another by doing or saying something stupid. We’ve seen Dumb Vicki in one or two fleeting moments already, but those moments haven’t really damaged the character yet. She is just on screen so much of the time, and is so consistently the innocent party in whatever conflict is going on, that when the writers paint themselves into a corner she is the only person available to take some insufficiently motivated action that will solve their problems for them.

This time, though, the episode is credited to not to any of those future writing teams, but to Vicki’s creator, Art Wallace. And her inexplicable action is going to stick us with her in a frustrating situation for days to come. As Vicki, Alexandra Moltke Isles follows David into the place of confinement with slow steps and her neck bent, as if she has resigned herself to being sacrificed. That’s an intriguing acting choice, but there is nothing at all in the writing to suggest that her spirit has been broken in that way. My theory is that Wallace, who will be leaving the show in a few days, is losing interest in the work, and Mrs Isles is trying to salvage what she can from a weak script.

Monday’s episode was so washed-out I thought it was a kinescope, and I said in my post that it was the first one of the series. Apparently it wasn’t- that episode is taken from a surviving videotape, just one that is in bad shape. This one really is the first episode to come down to us on kinescope. It really doesn’t look any worse than do prints like Monday’s.

PS- This is the only episode from the first 42 weeks that Danny Horn discussed on his tremendous blog Dark Shadows Every Day. He includes an analysis of it in the middle of a long riff about #1219, the “missing episode.” His remarks are hostile, unfair, misleading, and absolutely brilliant. I recommend it to everyone.

Episode 81: I’m not a gossip

We spend today, not so much with the ancient and esteemed Collins family, but with two of the three members of their household staff. Gruff caretaker Matthew Morgan goes into town so that he can scowl at the family’s nemesis, dashing action hero Burke Devlin. Mrs Sarah Johnson goes to the great house of Collinwood to interview for the position of housekeeper.

During the interview, Mrs Johnson tells reclusive matriarch Liz that “I’m not a gossip.” This will become a frequent refrain of hers in the years to come, and will usually serve as a preface to remarks in which she will blab the entire contents of her mind to anyone who will listen. This time, “I’m not a gossip” is followed immediately by her assertion that in all her years as housekeeper to beloved local man Bill Malloy, she never repeated a word she heard spoken in his house to anyone. It seems to be news to Liz that Bill had ever spoken any words he would want to have kept in confidence. It’s certainly news to the audience. All we’ve heard up to this point was that Bill’s whole life was absorbed in his work. Mrs Johnson set me wondering what we might yet learn about Bill.

Matthew drives Mrs Johnson back to town. He sits down with her as she prepares to have lunch at the restaurant in the Collinsport Inn. Matthew tries to persuade her she would be better off moving in with her daughter than taking a job at Collinwood. He tells her that Collinwood is in fact haunted, and that if she isn’t afraid of its ghosts she ought to be. She is unconvinced.

Matthew gets a great deal of emphasis in this episode. There are two location inserts featuring him- when he walks through downtown Collinsport to the Collinsport Inn, and when the taxi carrying Mrs Johnson pulls up to the outside of the house and we see him trimming bushes. Exterior footage is never commonplace in Dark Shadows, and when we see a character moving around outdoors it’s a sign of something important.

Unknown to Matthew or Liz, Mrs Johnson is in fact convinced that Liz’ brother, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger, is responsible for Bill’s death and that Liz is protecting him. She wants to become housekeeper at Collinwood so she can spy on the Collinses for Burke.

After Matthew leaves the restaurant, Mrs Johnson reports to Burke on her interview with Liz. He is dissatisfied with her work as a secret agent. He berates her, as we had seen him berate his henchmen in earlier episodes. They had submitted to his rantings meekly. Mrs Johnson snaps at him, and gets an apology. Evidently we are supposed to expect that she will be a strong character in her own right, not a mere cat’s paw for Burke.

This is the first of many episodes that survives only on kinescope. This has some happy effects. For example, the footage of Matthew walking in downtown Collinsport is preceded by a shot of him going out the front door of the great house. The kinescope’s poorer resolution makes this set look like very much like an outdoor shot itself.

CORRECTION: It turns out this isn’t a kinescope, just a particularly crummy videotape. There’s a kinescope coming up later this week, though.

Episode 1102: More Than Just Sleeping

In which I say that Dark Shadows generally, and The Re-Haunting of Collinwood segment specifically, is best viewed in black and white.

Episode 1102: More Than Just Sleeping

Episode 1119: Why Are We the Way We Are

In which certain performances lead me to surmise that actors were consulting videotapes of old episodes, and I wonder if that’s why the tapes of some famous episodes went missing.

Episode 1119: Why Are We the Way We Are