When we first met Willie Loomis in March 1967, he was a dangerously unstable ruffian who came to the town of Collinsport and eventually to the great house of Collinwood in the train of seagoing con man Jason McGuire. Willie was such a violent and unpleasant fellow in those days that it was difficult to see why even a villain like Jason would choose to be associated with him.
The next month, Willie inadvertently freed vampire Barnabas Collins from his coffin. Barnabas bit Willie and transformed him into a sorely bedraggled blood thrall. That version of the character was so heavily beaten down and so sincerely remorseful that it was easy to wish him well, but he was so thoroughly dominated by Barnabas that no one else could get close to him.
In March 1968, Barnabas’ vampirism went into remission. His other victims regained their old personalities and apparently forgot about their time under his power. It is unclear just what effect Barnabas’ re-humanization has had on Willie. In #483, his first episode after Barnabas’ cure, Willie ran through the whole range of behavior he had shown in the preceding year. For a time, it seemed he might not remember that Barnabas had been a vampire. During that period, Barnabas assumed that Willie remembered everything, treated him as if he did, and after a couple of weeks of that treatment Willie and Barnabas were having the same kinds of conversations they had in the old days. Perhaps Barnabas accidentally gave Willie the therapy he needed to get his memory back.
Today, we open with Barnabas and Willie bickering in the front parlor of Barnabas’ house. They have been out hunting Tom Jennings, a vampire who has been feeding on Barnabas’ friend Julia. Willie says Barnabas has a reason for being so concerned about Julia, and Barnabas says that of course he does. He describes Julia’s current functions in the plot, and Willie says that isn’t what he’s talking about. Barnabas gets flustered, then asks “Are you being pro-fouuuund?”
Jonathan Frid lingers on the second syllable of “pro-fouuuund” until the whole audience is likely to be laughing. The whole scene is funny, because it shows us sides of Barnabas and Willie that we always suspected existed, but that we never expected to see. As my wife, Mrs Acilius, pointed out, Barnabas has been so phenomenally selfish for so long that it is excruciatingly difficult for him to admit that he is willing to put a friend’s interests ahead of his own. And seeing Willie tease him about his feelings shows that the former slave and master are now buddies. Willie is neither menacing nor cringing, but is sympathetic enough and self-confident enough that anyone could enjoy his company. At long last, we know why Jason fell in with him, and what Willie lost, at first by his descent into criminality, and later as Barnabas’ victim.
An unexpected visitor drops in. It is Elizabeth Collins Stoddard, mistress of Collinwood and escaped mental patient. Liz tells Barnabas that she saw Julia in a room with a coffin. Barnabas takes a while to put the pieces together, but it finally dawns on him that Liz is describing Tom’s lair. He goes there, and finds Julia unconscious on the floor next to the coffin.
Barnabas carries Julia into his house. Liz announces that Julia is dead. Barnabas assures her that she is still alive. Even though she is clearly breathing, Liz refuses to believe him.
Later, Liz goes up to Julia’s bedroom. She sits by Julia and tells her that she knows she was part of the conspiracy to bury her alive, but that she forgives her. The whole story of Liz’ fixation on this supposed conspiracy is pretty dull, but Joan Bennett was an extraordinary talent. When she has a scene like this, she can sell Liz as effectively as if she were at the center of an exciting arc.
Just before dawn, Barnabas and Willie go to Tom’s coffin with a mallet and stake. Willie keeps pointing out that the sun isn’t up yet, but Barnabas opens the coffin anyway. It’s empty. Willie panics and runs off. It’s unclear why Barnabas opened the coffin- maybe he turned in early in his time as a vampire, and assumed Tom would do the same. At any rate, the episode ends with a lot of rather awkward stage business as Barnabas and Tom wrestle and Tom bares his fangs. This poorly choreographed fight scene leaves us with a laugh as sour as the laughs from the intentionally funny scene between Barnabas and Willie at the opening were sweet.
Julia Hoffman, MD, is in the hospital looking for information about Tom Jennings. Tom was never her patient, but she knows that he was bitten by a vampire and will become a vampire himself if he dies.
Julia meets Tom’s cousin Joe Haskell. Joe tells her that Tom is already dead. Seeing how distraught Joe is, Julia says she will call his doctor. When he says he doesn’t need medical attention, because “I’m upset, that’s all,” Julia responds “There’s medication for that, too, you know.” Joe tells Julia Tom will be buried before the day is out.
Meanwhile, recovering vampire Barnabas Collins is in his basement, examining a new arrival. Barnabas and Julia are being forced to create a Frankenstein’s monster, and Barnabas’ servant Willie Loomis brought a cadaver home last night for material. Willie comes downstairs and declares that the project is too dangerous and too horrible for him to participate any further. Willie refers to himself in the third person, telling Barnabas that “Willie Loomis” has something to tell him. In this, he reverts to a habit he had in his first week on the show, when he was played by James Hall. He stopped doing this shortly after John Karlen took over the role, long before he gave up trying to imitate Mr Hall’s Mississippi accent. Maybe he will go back to that next. Barnabas tells Willie that he will do as he is told, and that Julia will give him a sedative next time he comes back with a corpse. Willie storms out, and Julia comes in with the news about Tom.
Barnabas says they must drive a stake through Tom’s heart before he rises to prey on the living. He calls Willie in. At that, my wife, Mrs Acilius, laughed. “He’s going to make Willie do it!” But this time, Barnabas has decreed that all three of them will go to the cemetery.
They are clustered near a tree, looking for all the world like the Three Stooges, when they spot Joe standing at the grave. They haven’t caught on that Joe is himself the victim of a vampire. That’s a bit odd. You’d think they would be among the very first to spot the signs of such a condition, and in the opening scene Joe was even sitting directly under a “Give Blood” poster. But they are oblivious.
Barnabas and Willie dig up the coffin. Barnabas is ready with the mallet and the stake when Willie opens the lid. He is shocked to find that it is empty.
In the great house of Collinwood, well-meaning governess Vicki is talking to her fiancé, an unpleasant man named Peter who prefers to be called Jeff. She asks Peter/ Jeff to wait there for an hour while she goes to the Old House on the estate to break the news of their engagement to old world gentleman Barnabas. It has been established in previous episodes that the Old House is no more than a fifteen minute walk from the great house, so we know that Vicki expects the conversation to last about half an hour. Peter/ Jeff seems worried that it might have consequences that go on even longer. He tells Vicki that Barnabas loves her. She agrees that he does, but says that she loves only Peter/ Jeff, and tells him he needn’t be jealous.
Vicki arrives at the Old House and tells Barnabas the news. She tells him she knows how he feels about her. In a mild tone, he says that she and Peter/ Jeff don’t seem to have known each other very long. Vicki isn’t worried about that, so Barnabas wishes her well, tells her nothing will ever change his feelings for her, gives her a peck on the cheek, and sees her to the door. She leaves the Old House about four minutes after she got there, much less time than she had expected.
Barnabas’ calm reaction and quick dismissal of Vicki suggests that he might not be quite so hung up on her as she and Peter/ Jeff imagine him to be. The end of her visit corroborated this far more powerfully than Vicki could know. Moments before she came to the Old House, a man named Adam had left. Adam is a Frankenstein’s monster. He mistakenly believes that Barnabas created him. He came to the house to demand that Barnabas create a mate for him. When Barnabas told him he could not, Adam said he would wreak a terrible vengeance. Evidently he did not intend to attack Barnabas directly, since he then turned and left. Even though Barnabas knows that Adam is nearby and is out for someone’s blood, he does not offer to accompany Vicki home through the woods; it doesn’t even occur to him to do so.
For over a year, Barnabas has been saying that he and Vicki are going to wind up together, but he has done next to nothing to make this happen. In recent months, he has been pushing her away every time they are together. In #490, he went so far as to tell her that “loving me would have been the greatest mistake of your life.” My wife, Mrs Acilius, wonders if Vicki backed Barnabas into a corner when she told him “I know how you feel about me.” After that, he couldn’t very well have done less than tell her he would always feel about her as he does now. A girl has her pride, after all.
Once Vicki is in the woods, Adam shows up and grabs her. He announces that she will help him persuade Barnabas to give him what he wants.
Craig Slocum tops many fans’ lists of Dark Shadows‘ worst actors, so I would be remiss in my duty as a commentator if I did not mention that he does a genuinely good job today as unlovely ex-convict Harry Johnson. Harry brings a tray of food to the very tall, very strong Adam, who is in a dusty room in the long deserted west wing of the great house of Collinwood, hiding from the police as the guest of heiress Carolyn Collins Stoddard. Harry finds that Adam is trying to stab himself to death, and calmly talks him into giving up the effort and handing over his knife.
Harry goes to the drawing room in search of Carolyn, and finds the suave and mysterious Nicholas Blair. Nicholas tells him that Carolyn is out. He shocks Harry by asking if Adam is in trouble. Harry had no idea anyone but he and Carolyn knew Adam was in the house, and Carolyn has scared him out of his few wits with her orders to keep the secret.
Nicholas takes command of the situation. He insists Harry tell him what happened, and posts him in the foyer to wait for Carolyn to return while he goes up to talk to Adam. When Carolyn comes back, Harry tells her about Adam’s suicide attempt and about his encounter with Nicholas. She angrily reminds Harry that Collinwood is her house, not Nicholas’, and Harry had damn well better remember to take his orders from her and no one else. Harry is left with nothing to say but a meek “Yes, ma’am.”
Slocum is convincing as someone who is not intimidated by a physically imposing man with a knife, but who is entirely out of his league when confronted with people who outrank him in social class. So far as I can tell, none of the other fansites mentions his good work today. Dark Shadows fans are accustomed to ghosts and witches and vampires and Frankensteins and time travel, but a good performance by Craig Slocum is such an unexpected sight that they cannot bring themselves to admit that they have seen it.
Nicholas is a middle manager in Satan’s terrestrial operations, a member of Hell’s bourgeoisie.* He knows that Adam is a Frankenstein’s monster. The other day, he persuaded Adam to try to rape Carolyn. Adam’s attempt doesn’t seem to have got very far, but it has convinced Carolyn that she can no longer harbor Adam in her house. The audience knows that Nicholas has plans for Adam; presumably he knew that if Adam attacked Carolyn, she would want him to leave Collinwood, paving the way for him to take the big guy into his own house where he would have unlimited access to him. While Carolyn is downstairs chewing Harry out, Nicholas is up in Adam’s hiding place adding to the evil ideas he has planted in his impressionable mind.
Carolyn goes up to Adam’s room and finds Nicholas still there. Nicholas tells her that the crisis is past, then leaves the room. Carolyn finds that Adam is perfectly composed and looking forward to some improvement in his circumstances, but is unwilling to talk to her about anything substantial.
Carolyn goes down to the drawing room, where Nicholas is playing the piano. This is the first time we have seen anyone play the piano since #330, when sarcastic dandy Roger Collins banged out a few notes. Carolyn has been suspicious of Nicholas since she met him and was angry with him when she first learned he had gone into the west wing and found Adam, but can only thank him when she sees that he has talked the big guy out of suicidal despair.
Later, we see that Adam has left the great house of Collinwood and gone to the Old House on the same estate. The Old House is home to old world gentleman Barnabas Collins. Adam knows that Barnabas was present when he first awoke, in a laboratory, ten weeks ago, and that he spent the first weeks of his life as a prisoner in Barnabas’ dungeon. When he learned yesterday that he was an artificially constructed man, he jumped to the conclusion that it was Barnabas who created him.
Adam knocks on Barnabas’ door. Barnabas is astonished to see that Adam has returned. Adam announces that they will talk and walks in.
Barnabas marvels at Adam’s fluent speech. When last they saw each other, he could speak only a few words, such as “music!,” “food!,” “friend,” and, most importantly, “kill Barnabas!” Now, he tells Barnabas that he no longer plans to kill him, but says that he is right to be afraid of him. He has come for what he is entitled to. He wants Barnabas to make another creature like himself so that he will no longer be alone.
Barnabas tries to explain that he did not create Adam, that Dr Eric Lang did. Adam has never heard of Lang, and dismisses Barnabas’ statement as a lie. Barnabas goes on saying that he isn’t even a doctor, but Adam won’t listen. He will be provided with a mate, or he will take his revenge.
My wife, Mrs Acilius, pointed out that Adam’s demand for a woman who shares his nature should sound familiar to Barnabas. When Barnabas first came on the show in the spring and summer of 1967, he was a vampire, and was obsessed with turning a living woman into a vampiric replica of his lost love Josette. Adam, who came to life by an infusion of Barnabas’ “life force,” shares his longing for a female counterpart.
In 1973, Dark Shadows creator Dan Curtis produced an adaptation of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s Frankenstein for ABC-TV. The second half of that long movie was devoted to the creature’s demand that Frankenstein build him a mate, and the terrible vengeance he exacted when the scientist refused to comply. The original audience of this episode can’t have known that that production was in the future, but they would have been aware of the 1935 Universal film Bride of Frankenstein and Hammer’s 1967 Frankenstein Created Woman. It seems likely they had assumed that Adam would sooner or later set aside his bachelor ways, and were waiting for a development such as this.
*Mrs Acilius has an advanced degree in sociology, and she coined the phrase “Hell’s bourgeoisie.”
Suave warlock Nicholas has expressly forbidden his subordinate, the wicked witch known variously as Angelique and Cassandra, from killing Frankenstein’s monster Adam. But now he has twice caught her trying to do just that. He punishes her by stripping her of her powers. He tells her that she is now a human being, and that she will die soon.
Nicholas de-witches Angelique/ Cassandra, while also trying to hold her wig in place. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.
Angelique/ Cassandra’s husband, sarcastic dandy Roger, comes downstairs and confronts her about her indifference to him. She responds that there never was anything between them and never will be, and rushes out of the house. My wife, Mrs Acilius, is a soap opera fan from way back, and she says that as far as she is concerned this archetypal soap moment makes for a “Genuinely Good Episode.”
Angelique/ Cassandra goes to see recovering vampire Barnabas. He opens the door and asks what she wants. She says that she was once the mistress of the house and that as such she has a right to enter.
Ever since she showed up in the year 1968, Angelique/ Cassandra has been trying Barnabas’ patience and the audience’s by pretending that she was not the witch he married in the 1790s. He asks her why she has dropped that pretense now, and she says that she, like he, has become human. She also says that she will die at dawn. It is unclear why she thinks this- all Nicholas told her was that her life expectancy was to be measured in “minutes.” She declares her intention to kill Barnabas, and is pointing a gun at him when the episode ends.
If it does not lead to her immediate demise, depriving Angelique/ Cassandra of her powers would be an intriguing way of making her a more flexible character. In the costume drama segment set in the late eighteenth century, she was so powerful that she painted herself into a corner, facing no real opposition. The only suspense she could generate came when she was indecisive or distracted and got in her own way. In 1968, her subordination to Nicholas has pushed her to the opposite extreme. She has been very busy, but hasn’t done much. If she survives without her powers, it might be interesting to see her learn how to live as a human after all this time.
Angelique/ Cassandra’s appearance reflects the end of her dual identity perhaps more clearly than was intended. When she answered to the name Angelique in the 1790s, she had blonde hair; when she turned up in 1968 calling herself Cassandra, she wore a black wig. Throughout this episode, the wig keeps sliding around on her head.
This episode includes another of the innumerable replays of an audiotape message about Barnabas and Adam. The other day, it seemed that Nicholas and Cassandra had taped over the message, as undead fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins taped over a recording she didn’t want parapsychologist Peter Guthrie to hear in #172. But Friday they played it for us yet again. When Nicholas threatens Angelique/ Cassandra with death if she keeps disobeying him, Mrs Acilius said to the screen “I’ll kill you myself if you play that tape again!” I am glad to report that this is the last time we will hear the thing.
Danny Horn’s Dark Shadows Every Day post about this episode juxtaposes screenshots and dialogue from the scene in which Nicholas strips Angelique/ Cassandra of her powers with screenshots and dialogue from a contemporary episode of General Hospital. The contrast is hilarious. It also shows why even the conventionally soapy scenes with Roger and Barnabas stand out from the other daytime dramas of the period. Director Lela Swift’s use of the camera was incomparably more dynamic and ambitious than anything General Hospital was doing, Robert Cobert’s original orchestral score is comprehensible to a modern audience in a way that an organ playing in the background would never be, and the action is paced so that it takes less time for Angelique/ Cassandra to lose her supernatural powers, end her marriage to Roger, and pull a gun on Barnabas than it took Lucille to explain to Audrey that she had an idea about how she could learn to play bridge.
Suave warlock Nicholas Blair tells his subordinate, the wicked witch known variously as Angelique and Cassandra, that she has an hour to figure out why her recent attempt to turn Barnabas Collins back into a vampire failed. When she tells him that won’t be enough time, he suggests she spend the hour preparing for her final destruction. At the last minute, her stepson David tells Angelique/ Cassandra about an audiotape message that happens to give her exactly the information she needs.
Angelique/ Cassandra has been an extremely unsympathetic villain, so it is daring to have an episode mostly from her point of view which is suspenseful if and only if we want her to stay around. My wife, Mrs Acilius, says that might have been a reasonable bet when a character as dynamic as Angelique/ Cassandra is played by a performer as appealing as Lara Parker, but it doesn’t pay off today, for two reasons. First, the episode doesn’t have much of a plot. Second, returning viewers will be angry with Angelique/ Cassandra right now. She just subjected us to a three month ordeal called “The Dream Curse,” in which we saw the same dull sequence play out a dozen times, heard it described almost twice as many times, and then found out that there was no point to any of it. We know perfectly well that Angelique/ Cassandra is too interesting to stay off the show for long, so that the “final destruction” Nicholas is threatening will probably last for three weeks at most. But we really do want to see her punished for wasting our time.
This is the first episode in which John Karlen reads the opening narration, and only the third episode in which any male performer reads it. Most cast members have read these narrations more or less in the characters they will play in that day’s episode; Karlen takes his place alongside Kathryn Leigh Scott as one of two who strive to invest the role of Narrator with its own personality.
This was the last of the five episodes credited to director John Weaver. It isn’t hard to find reasons why they wouldn’t have contracted him to do more. There are a number of moments when the action jolts to a standstill for no apparent reason, Humbert Allen Astredo as Nicholas never seems to know what direction he should be facing, and when Angelique/ Cassandra orders the bedraggled Willie Loomis to “Look into my eyes!” we get a shot of him looking past her.
This was the second of five episodes credited to director John Weaver. One possible reason he wasn’t contracted to do more is seen in the first minute, when recovering vampire Barnabas crouches down to lift a paper from the floor. The camera lingers on the show’s biggest star in this ungainly posture.
The latest installment of our occasional series of photos, “Sex Symbols of the 1960s.”
The paper is a note in the handwriting of well-meaning governess Vicki. It says that Vicki wants to go away rather than tell Barnabas about a dream she had. It ends with the declaration that Vicki would “rather die” than hurt Barnabas; he jumps to the conclusion that this means she is about to commit suicide, and he rushes off to the great house of Collinwood to stop her.
Barnabas and Vicki know what regular viewers also know, that her dream was no ordinary nightmare, but was the penultimate event in the “Dream Curse” that the wicked witch known variously as Angelique and Cassandra has set as part of her quest to destroy Barnabas. Each of an appallingly long list of characters has the same dream and suffers terrible torment that can be relieved only by telling it to the next person in line, who repeats the process. Vicki knows that when the dream gets back to Barnabas, Angelique/ Cassandra’s goal is supposed to be complete. Vicki thinks that goal is Barnabas’ death; he and we know that it is his relapse into active vampirism.
Barnabas’ interpretation of “I’d rather die than do that” as Vicki saying she is going to kill herself may seem silly to first-time viewers, but those who have been watching Dark Shadows from the beginning will see some grounds for it. In #2, Vicki was standing on the cliff of Widows’ Hill when sarcastic dandy Roger startled her by asking if she was planning to jump; he went on to tell her that she wouldn’t be the first to end her life in that way. In #5, drunken artist Sam saw her in the same place and told her the story of gracious lady Josette, who apparently was the first to do so. In the months that followed, we several times heard of a legend that governesses kept jumping off the cliff. Throughout the first year, Vicki came to be deeply involved with the ghost of Josette. When Barnabas joined the show, Josette was retconned as his lost love, and her suicide as her response to his vampirism. So Vicki’s connection to Josette, her job as a governess, her affection for Barnabas, and her involvement in a crisis about his curse combine to prompt him to think of her as a likely suicide.
When Barnabas gets to the great house, Vicki tells him she did not write the note. They figure out that it was a forgery by Angelique/ Cassandra, meant to bring Barnabas into contact with Vicki so that she would have an opportunity to tell him the dream. Barnabas goes, and permanent houseguest Julia, who is Barnabas’ best friend and partner in crime, talks with Vicki about the dream.
Later, Julia goes to Barnabas’ house, and he tells her that he cannot let Vicki go on suffering for his sake. He says that he will make her tell him the dream to end her suffering. Julia points out that this will make him a vampire again, and he says he will just have to accept that.
Barnabas laments his own past selfishness throughout this scene, but his willingness to revert to vampirism suggests that he has learned nothing. He will not be the only one who suffers if that condition reoccurs. Vicki herself was his victim when his blood-lust went into remission, and there is no telling how many other people he will bite, enslave, and kill if he reverts. That he can strike a noble pose while claiming that he is going to sacrifice himself for Vicki creates an image of total narcissism.
Meanwhile, heiress Carolyn learns that a very tall man named Adam is still alive and is being hunted by the police. Adam abducted Carolyn and held her prisoner in an old shack in the woods some weeks before, but later saved her life. What she does not know is that Adam is a Frankenstein’s monster and that before she met him, he had spent virtually his whole conscious life chained to a wall in a prison cell in Barnabas’ basement. As far as he knew, holding each other captive was just how people behaved. In those days, Adam spoke only a few words, and could not explain this to Carolyn. But she did find a gentleness in him, and even while she was his prisoner she never hated him.
Now, Carolyn is very concerned about Adam’s well-being. She goes back to the old shack in the woods and finds him hiding there. She discovers that he has learned a great many words since she knew him; he confirms that Professor Timothy Eliot Stokes had been harboring him and teaching him. She goes off to get Stokes, promising to bring him back so that he and Adam can reconnect.
In the discussion following the recap of this episode on Dark Shadows Before I Die, Christine Scoleri remarks on Carolyn’s “Frankenfantasy date with Adam.” That was the first I’d seen the expression “Frankenfantasy,” or had thought that enough people harbored erotic feelings about Frankenstein’s monster that such a term would be necessary.
Amused as I am by the word “Frankenfantasy,” I really don’t think it applies to Carolyn. But since she is the only woman with whom Adam has ever had a conversation, it makes sense that he might interpret her behavior that way. As my wife, Mrs Acilius, pointed out, that would continue theme that has been developed among the other male and female characters who interact in the episode. Barnabas sees Julia as a close friend, and she wants him to be her lover. Barnabas and Vicki share a real affection, which he has a vague idea of converting into a romance, but there is zero erotic chemistry between them. If Adam mistakes Carolyn’s earnest friendship for sexual desire, he’ll fit right in.
In the woods, an unpleasant man named Peter finds his girlfriend, well-meaning governess Vicki, wandering about in a trance. He thinks she has been sleepwalking, and takes her home to the great house of Collinwood.
In her bedroom, Vicki tells Peter that she has never walked in her sleep before. He tells her that he had a dream which persuaded him that she has been right all along. He now believes that the two of them lived in the 1790s, that they were lovers then, and that they were both unjustly sentenced to die. He describes a dream he had that broke down his resistance to this idea. Vicki tells him that the events in the dream did not take place, and wonders if she has been wrong about him all along. Perhaps he just dreamed about the stories she has been telling him. It does not occur to either of them that the dream was one Peter might have had while awaiting execution, so that even if it did not match what he would have seen during his waking hours, it still might have been an experience he had in the eighteenth century.
My wife, Mrs Acilius, was very much impressed with Alexandra Moltke Isles’ performance as Vicki in this scene. Every time Roger Davis speaks, and certainly every time he shoves his face into hers for a kiss, we recoil from Peter and expect Vicki to do the same. Yet Mrs Isles conjures up a look in her eyes and a tone in her voice that makes us believe Vicki loves Peter. She has to do that every time they have a scene together, and she pulls it off again and again. Mrs Acilius marveled that Mrs Isles could do this as convincingly with Mr Davis as if she were playing opposite an appealing actor.
Beginning in #365, well-meaning governess Vicki Winters spent nineteen weeks in the 1790s. Ever since Vicki brought Dark Shadows back to a contemporary setting in March 1968, the show has been dealing with the consequences of her journey.
Today, we open with a dream sequence. The boyfriend who followed Vicki from the 1790s, a man named Peter, came to the twentieth century with total amnesia and a belligerent personality that kept him from listening when Vicki tried to explain who he was. His dream is about people and events from 1796, and it finally breaks down his insistence that he is someone else. That insistence was never at all interesting- it wasn’t as if his name were Watt Iduno Hu, in which case he and Vicki could at least have done a version of Abbott and Costello’s “Who’s on First?” But now that it is over, there are no obstacles at all between Peter and Vicki, and no reason for either of them to be on the show.
Meanwhile, suave warlock Nicholas Blair has carried a portrait of wicked witch Angelique from the bedroom where he is staying in the great house on the estate of Collinwood down to the drawing room. He makes a tremendous display of effort as he concentrates on the portrait, talks to it in an urgent voice, and makes many movements with his hands, all in an attempt to make contact with Angelique’s spirit so that he can reconstitute her body. Vicki walks in on him as he is doing this, and he breaks off, embarrassed. He finds out that Vicki owns the portrait, and she refuses him permission to borrow it.
Nicholas caught in the act.
Later, Nicholas finds out about Vicki’s visit to the 1790s. He is intrigued that in those days the same witchfinder who has disincorporated Angelique mistook Vicki for a witch and tried to perform an exorcism on her. He decides that the spot on which this rite took place must be the same as that where Angelique’s ashes are now deposited. So he casts a spell on Vicki, causing her to lead him to the place.
Other fansites feature complaints that Nicholas could just have cast a spell on Vicki during their first scene together. In his post about the episode on Dark Shadows Every Day, Danny Horn writes of their first scene that “Nicholas actually has the power to mesmerize Vicki and get her to do whatever he wants, so technically he could just put the whammy on her right now, and tell her to clear the room.” And on Dark Shadows Before I Die, Christine Scoleri wonders “If Blair could make Vicki ‘listen and obey’ so easily, then why didn’t he just make her give him the portrait instead of getting all pissy when she refused to loan it to him?”
That didn’t bother me. When Vicki walked in on Nicholas in the drawing room, he was straining himself to make contact with the spirit of Angelique. He again puts himself deeply into his mumbo-jumbo when he casts his spell on Vicki. So it seemed perfectly reasonable to me that he couldn’t just drop what he was doing with the portrait and go directly into another spell.
The obvious sexual symbolism of the scene in the drawing room reinforces that point. On the Dark Shadows Daybook, Patrick McCray describes the display Nicholas makes while interacting with the painting depicting his putative sister as suggestive of incestuous feelings;* and the awkwardness Humbert Allen Astredo and Alexandra Moltke Isles bring out when Vicki walks in on Nicholas getting all worked up as he stares at a woman’s picture and puts all his energy into imagining her physical presence will likely seem familiar to anyone who has ever had a room-mate. Since Nicholas’ mind is so intensely engaged with the idea of Angelique, it isn’t hard to imagine that he would need time to redirect his attention to Vicki.
*His actual words were “uncomfortably Kentuckian,” but Mrs Acilius was born in Kentucky and is tired of incest jokes about her onetime neighbors. [UPDATE: Patrick points out his own Kentuckian heritage, and protests that his little joke was an irony fondly intended.]
Roger Collins is on the telephone in the foyer of the great house of Collinwood. He is assuring the caller that it will be fine if Maggie, whom returning viewers know to be The Nicest Girl in Town, comes to stay. He says that he and Cassandra will be glad to have her for as long as she wants to be with them, and that he is sure Liz will approve. First time viewers thus learn that Roger has a wife named Cassandra, and that they live as guests in a house belonging to someone called Liz. A moment later, Liz enters, and is too distracted to hear anything Roger says to her.
Roger ends the phone call, and follows Liz into the drawing room. She stares out the window and makes a gloomy remark about death. He says he understands she must be very upset about Sam Evans. Returning viewers know that Sam was Maggie’s father, and that he died in yesterday’s episode. Roger goes on about how it is natural to be grieved at the loss of a friend like Sam, but soon learns that Liz’ mood has nothing to do with Sam’s demise- it’s news to her that he is dead.
Roger’s lines will startle longtime viewers. For the first 40 weeks of the show, Roger and Sam were united by a deep and abiding mutual hatred, and since then they have had no contact at all. Roger’s words about Sam as a family friend are so far from what we have previously seen that they should be considered a retcon.
Liz and Roger spend several minutes in the drawing room. She keeps going on about the all-pervasive reality of death, and he keeps urging her to see a doctor. There isn’t much to their lines, but Joan Bennett and Louis Edmonds were such extraordinary screen performers that it’s always fun to watch them together. This scene might be a particular pleasure to longtime viewers, who have rarely seen Roger as the responsible adult in any encounter.
We dissolve to a bedroom where a young woman in a black wig is sifting through some powders, looking directly into the camera, and telling Liz that her obsession with death will become even worse than it already is and will have dire consequences. Liz will believe that she is someone else, a woman who lived and died in another century, and may die by the same poison that killed that person.
There is a knock at the door. It is Roger. The woman hides her powders and lets him in. He addresses her as Cassandra and asks why the door was locked. Thus first-time viewers learn that she is his wife, that this is their room, that she is a witch, and that Liz’ problem is the result of a spell she has cast.
Cassandra tells Roger that she locked the door because David kept pestering her about Sam’s death and she wanted a moment to herself. With that, first-time viewers find out that David is Roger’s son, that Cassandra is his stepmother, and that she expects Roger to consider locking him out of the room an appropriate response to his grief about Sam.
Roger does not so consider it, and is bewildered by what Cassandra tells him. He tells Cassandra that Liz is in a bad way, and he is worried about her. Cassandra says she did not know that Roger was so concerned about his family. Baffled by this, Roger says that of course he is concerned, Liz is his sister. This tells first time viewers both what Roger’s relationship to Liz is, and that Cassandra has so little sense of family that she cannot imagine how other people feel.
Regular viewers will learn more. In the first year of the show, Roger’s keynote was his lack of loyalty to the family. That has now been set aside once and for all, and his normal attachment to his son and his sister provide a contrast with Cassandra’s apparently sociopathic coldness. Further, we saw a great deal of Cassandra from November 1967 through March 1968, when the show was a costume drama set in the 1790s and she was called Angelique. We saw then that Angelique had no conception of family or friendship, and that her idea of love begins and ends with her control over a person.
Cassandra promises to join Roger downstairs for a game of bridge in half an hour. He leaves, and she gets back to work spellcasting. As she does so, a figure in a black cassock materializes behind her. She turns, and the figure vanishes. In a quizzical tone, she says Roger’s name, revealing that she did not see the figure or realize that it is a supernatural presence. Together with her locking the door, scrambling to hide her magical paraphernalia when Roger knocked, lying to cover what she was doing, and failing to understand what a person with a reasonable amount of human empathy would consider acceptable behavior, her puzzlement shows that whatever her powers may be, they have definite limits.
Back in the foyer, another young woman with black hair lets a man into the house. She calls him Joe, and he calls her Vicki. Joe and Vicki talk about Sam’s death and about Maggie. Joe says that he wants to marry Maggie as soon as possible and to move away. Vicki is all for their marriage, but does not want them to go. Joe talks about how close he and Sam were. Longtime viewers will remember that when Sam and Roger were enemies, Sam was the town drunk. Even then, Joe was always happy to help him in whatever way he could, and did not see his condition as any obstacle to marrying Maggie.
Liz enters and angrily addresses Joe as “Lieutenant Forbes.” Joe has never heard of Lieutenant Forbes, and cannot understand why Liz, who knows him well, would not recognize him. Vicki clearly does know who Liz is talking about, and manages to calm her down. After Liz apologizes and hastens away, Vicki answers Joe’s questions only by saying that Forbes is someone from “the past.” Since we heard Cassandra talk about Liz taking on the personality of someone who lived in “another century,” this suggests that Vicki, too, has an unnatural familiarity with that same century.
Joe wants to go upstairs to the room where Maggie is sleeping so that he will be the first person she sees when she wakes up. Vicki is about to lead him to Maggie when Cassandra insists she join her in the drawing room to talk about David. Vicki tells Joe which door to open, and complies with Cassandra’s directions. This shows that Vicki is a member of the household staff whose responsibilities have to do with David. Regular viewers know that she is his governess, and that they are very close.
Cassandra tells Vicki that David has been asking about Sam’s last words. Vicki says that he addressed them to Maggie, not to her, and implies that she did not hear them. When Cassandra continues probing, Vicki protests. She asks if Cassandra can’t see that she is upset. Considering how clueless Cassandra was about human feelings in her conversation with Roger, it is entirely possible that she cannot. Vicki tells her that Liz is deeply depressed; Cassandra feigns ignorance. Vicki says in a cold voice, “You wouldn’t know anything about that,” then leaves.
Longtime viewers know that it was Vicki who came unstuck in time in #365 and took us with her to the 1790s. During her nineteen weeks in the past, Vicki came to know not only Forbes, but Angelique. She knows perfectly well that Angelique and Cassandra are the same person, that she is a witch, and that she is a deadly menace to everyone. She likely suspects that Liz’ depression is the consequence of one of Cassandra’s spells, and the tone of her parting remark would suggest that she does. Further, those who saw the show yesterday know that Vicki is lying about Sam’s last words. They were addressed to her, and she heard them clearly. She is choosing not to repeat them to Cassandra lest Cassandra use them for her nefarious purposes.
Cassandra is alone in the drawing room for only a few seconds. She is joined there by the same figure who had appeared in her room. This time she sees him. He confronts her.
Regular viewers know that the figure is the Rev’d Mr Trask, a fanatical witchfinder who mistook Vicki for the witch in the 1790s and sent her to the gallows. He tells Cassandra that he now has the opportunity to correct that error. He shows her a cross, from which she recoils. We cut to a scene in the woods. Trask has tied Cassandra to a tree and performs an exorcism on her. This is Trask’s go-to technique; he tied Vicki to a tree in #385 and performed an exorcism on her in #386. Since Cassandra actually is in league with the devil (or as Trask would say, THE DE-VILLL!!!,) he has more success this time. Cassandra vanishes and leaves the ropes hanging on the tree.
A first-time viewer might take this climax as an indication that Dark Shadows is a Christian show and Trask is its hero. Not only is Trask going after the right target, he is clearly making some headway. He says all the right things about casting the evil out of Cassandra and saving whatever good is left in her. His delivery of his lines is so fervent that Mrs Acilius, a vigorous Christian, cheered him on. In fact, Trask’s wild incompetence throughout the 1790s segment led to one disaster after another, and was of a piece with the show’s light regard for religion. Not until #450 did a cross provoke a reaction from a monster; that was the first suggestion the show gave that there might be anything to Christianity, and the scenes between Cassandra and Trask today are the second.
Dark Shadows borrows story points freely from all sorts of books, plays, movies, and folklore. So far, it has steered clear of Christianity as a source. For obvious reasons- most of the audience is at least nominally Christian, and Christianity is, in one way or another, a live option for the rest. So it’s a topic that can take over very quickly once it is introduced. I suppose a specifically Christian version of Dark Shadows could have worked, but I can’t imagine that the staff they had would have been particularly interested in making a show like that. So when it looks like they are going to let Trask have even a temporary win, we see the show running one of its boldest risks yet.
Dark Shadows Commentary 