Suave warlock Nicholas is studying a mirror in his parlor. His subordinate, vampire Angelique, enters and comments on his vanity. He invites her to look at the mirror and tell him what she sees. “Only your reflection,” she replies. But the audience also sees the reflection of her hair and forehead. Her line, coupled with the fact that we do not see her whole face, suggests that her reflection was not supposed to be visible. In #288 the idea that vampires do not cast reflections was a crucial plot point. When old world gentleman Barnabas was a vampire, he several times cast the sorts of reflection Angelique casts today, usually as the result of Jonathan Frid missing his mark. Perhaps Lara Parker simply took half a step too many in this scene.
Nicholas’ mirror is no simple reflector. It functions as a closed circuit TV. He uses it to show Angelique the room in the attic where well-meaning governess Vicki is being held prisoner. He lets Vicki go, casts a spell to cause her to forget her captivity, and then tells Angelique that he will be going out.
Angelique asks what she is supposed to do while he is gone- sit in her chair and get bored? He says he couldn’t have put it better himself. When he returns, she is in fact in the chair, sitting still. It’s hilarious that she doesn’t pace, or get a book, or try to see if the mirror gets any other channels.
Nicholas was away visiting Maggie, The Nicest Girl in Town, on whom he has a crush. Maggie’s fiancé Joe dropped in while he was at her house. He tells Angelique that Joe is to be the next victim of her vampire’s bite.
Suave warlock Nicholas Blair is lounging in his living room, blissfully contemplating the imminent success of all his evil plans. An unexpected visitor arrives. He is Adam, a Frankenstein’s monster whom Nicholas has been teaching to adopt a cruel and amoral code of extreme egoism. Adam is under the mistaken impression that recovering vampire Barnabas Collins created him, and he wants Barnabas to create a mate for him. Much to Nicholas’ approval, Adam abducted well-meaning governess Vicki Winters and told Barnabas he would kill her unless he gave in to his demands. Nicholas has Vicki stashed in a room in his attic.
Adam is bringing news Nicholas does not welcome. Adam’s former mentor, Professor Timothy Eliot Stokes, visited him in his hiding place. Barnabas had told Stokes of Adam’s threats against Vicki. Stokes tried to talk Adam into letting Vicki go. His last appeal was to ask the big guy to imagine how he would feel if someone were holding his favorite person, heiress Carolyn Collins Stoddard, and threatening to kill her if his demands weren’t met. That got through to him. He has come to tell Nicholas that they must release Vicki.
Nicholas asks Adam why he finds Stokes’ arguments convincing. Adam finally says that by making the comparison between Vicki and Carolyn, Stokes made him feel bad. Nicholas seizes on this, and says that those bad feelings are not evidence of any truth about the situation, but are just something Stokes imposed on him by trickery. Nicholas’ dismissal of conscience as a product of other people’s influence rather than an intuitive source of knowledge sounds rather like one of the crass immoralists Socrates shoots down in Plato’s dialogues, or like a simplified version of the criticisms of conventional morality with which thinkers like Marx, Nietzsche, and Freud scandalized the late nineteenth century.
Adam goes back to Barnabas’ house and repeats his demand. Barnabas and his friend, mad scientist Julia Hoffman, waver. Barnabas finally agrees to try to build a woman for Adam, but only after he sets Vicki free. The big guy thinks about it for a moment, then agrees. He tells Barnabas that if he backs out of his part of the bargain, he will not only find Vicki again and kill her, but that he will murder everyone who bears the name of Collins. Since that includes Carolyn, it would seem that Nicholas’ teachings have had a very profound influence on him indeed.
Christine Scoleri of Dark Shadows Before I Die dramatized Stokes’ and Nicholas’ competing attempts to influence Adam with this image:
Suave warlock Nicholas Blair has turned his subordinate Angelique into a vampire. Nicholas tells Angelique that she will bite only those people he orders her to bite.
Nicholas leaves Angelique in his house. She answers a knock at the door and finds a sheriff’s deputy asking questions related to a local man who recently suffered some mysterious neck wounds. Angelique identifies herself as Nicholas’ secretary and answers some questions. She invites the deputy to sit on the couch. He asks why, and she responds that it is because they are obviously attracted to each other. Within seconds, they are locked in an embrace. Angelique is about to bite his neck when Nicholas enters and breaks things up. The embarrassed deputy clambers to his feet and straightens his uniform. He asks Nicholas a few cursory questions about the injured man, then hastens away.
Some of the commenters on the various fan sites point out that the deputy’s behavior does not conform to law enforcement’s conventional best practices, and others compare the scene to porno movies they have watched. I think the strength of the scene is that it shows how quickly an encounter between two people can take a turn in an utterly unexpected direction, perhaps with drastic consequences.
The deputy seems competent enough when first we see him, and for all we know he might have been a model policeman for years up to this point. But all he has to do is get lost in Angelique’s eyes for one second, and there he is in her arms, about to become her breakfast. When Nicholas interrupts them, the deputy’s reaction shows that he knows he is misbehaving and risking his job; the audience is clearly supposed to know that police officers are not supposed to act this way.
I don’t know about the porno movies, but a resonance with them would reinforce the same point. The movies those commenters describe begin with fully clothed people delivering dialogue and establishing scenarios, as if they were in domestic dramas or situation comedies. But then the clothes come off and the unsimulated sex starts, and they jump into a different genre, one from which there is no return. The deputy may act like a character in a police procedural, a genre in which Dark Shadows dabbled in its first months on the air. But it is a horror story now, and he comes within an ace of becoming someone who could fit only into such a story.
Nicholas chastises Angelique for ignoring his commands. He is holding well-meaning governess Vicki prisoner in another room in the house, and orders Angelique to go to that room and terrorize her. It turns out that he also wants her to persuade Vicki to give her her engagement ring. Vicki was unconscious when Nicholas claimed her and took her to his house, so if he simply wanted the ring he could have taken it then. Perhaps the people who bring up the porno movies are onto something about Nicholas’ motivations, and he is hoping to drop in on another seduction scene.
Vicki knows Angelique and knows that she has died. Vicki suspects that Angelique is a ghost; Angelique offers her hand as proof that she is not. This rather chilly contact is the only moment the two women touch.
As it happens, Vicki has had extensive experience with ghosts, most of it quite friendly. During her first captivity, when strange and troubled boy David trapped her in a room in the west wing of the great house of Collinwood, the ghost of local man Bill Malloy appeared to her, sang, and dripped seaweed on the floor. That frightened her at the time, but led to the breakthrough that ended David’s hostility to her. During her third captivity, when crazed handyman Matthew Morgan kept her in a secret room in the Old House on the same estate, the ghost of gracious lady Josette appeared to Vicki, told her not to be afraid, and led other ghosts, including Bill’s, in scaring Matthew to death before he could kill her. Vicki and Josette’s ghost teamed up to lead the opposition to David’s mother, undead fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins, when she came back to Collinwood and tried to lure David to his death. So Angelique might be missing a chance to ingratiate herself to Vicki when she shows her that she is not a ghost.
Angelique asks Vicki for her ring and promises to give it to Vicki’s fiancé, an unpleasant man named Peter who prefers to be called Jeff. Vicki refuses, explaining that the ring is the only possession she has in this latest captivity to assure her that she is still connected to the world outside. Angelique says that if she does not give her the ring, she will spend eternity in the room.
Some time ago, Vicki spent nineteen weeks in the late eighteenth century, during which time she learned that Angelique was an enormously malign being responsible for the deaths of any number of people. She was herself accused of and sentenced to be hanged for some of Angelique’s crimes. Since she returned to the present, Vicki and the people she most cares about have suffered further agonies at Angelique’s hands, and Vicki knows about this, too. There is absolutely no reason why she should trust her, and she explicitly tells her she does not. Yet she does give her the ring at the end of the scene. The performers do what they can. Alexandra Moltke Isles’ steady gaze and trembling body do suggest that Vicki is so worn out, confused, and desperate that she might turn for help even to her bitterest enemy. But the script just does not give her enough support to make this interpretation stick.
Mrs Isles is facing another script problem that makes her character look like that old bane, Dumb Vicki. There is a window in the room with a Venetian blind in front of it and a shutter behind. Vicki looks at the window, but we do not see her even try to open it. The room is full of all sorts of objects, and she has a bed covered with blankets. Even if the window is sealed shut, she could easily cover it with a blanket and use some of the junk to smash the glass and beat on the shutters. That it does not occur to her to do so makes it all too easy to believe Angelique is telling the truth when she says Vicki will be in the room forever.
Suave Nicholas Blair, a middle manager in Satan’s terrestrial operations, has met with considerable success in his efforts to corrupt Frankenstein’s monster Adam. Today, Nicholas finds that Adam has abducted well-meaning governess Vicki Winters as part of his effort to force old world gentleman Barnabas Collins to create a mate for him. Nicholas praises Adam’s plan, and persuades Adam to let him take Vicki from his hiding place in the west wing of the great house of Collinwood. Nicholas says that he can keep Vicki far more securely in his own house.
Nicholas gives Adam a vial full of drugs and tells him to put them in Vicki’s drink when she comes to so that she will be easier to handle. In #528, Nicholas described himself as “much too talented to spend my time drugging drinks.” Perhaps he is, but the writers have to pump out five scripts a week, so whaddaya gonna do.
When Vicki wakes up, she pleads with Adam to let her go. She asks what reason he has for abducting her, and he immediately says “No reason!,” then scrunches up his face and says “No, I have a reason.” He won’t tell Vicki what that reason is, but he is interesting to listen to. Vicki makes a run for the door; he grabs her and puts her back on the bed. He asks her, with genuine concern, whether he hurt her. She assures him he did not. He gives her the drugged drink.
Nicholas comes to take Vicki. We cut directly from Vicki unconscious on Adam’s bed to her unconscious on a bed in Nicholas’ house. I don’t think this is the first time Dark Shadows has used a jump cut, but we certainly haven’t seen it often. Abrupt editing is so much at odds with the stately visual grammar of the show that it qualifies as a special effect. Unfortunately, it is an effect that does not make any particular point here, and so is wasted.
The other day, the corpse of Nicholas’ subordinate, wicked witch Angelique, disappeared. We then saw a coffin in Nicholas’ basement. Nicholas talked to the coffin, calling it “Angelique,” indicating that her body was inside. Yesterday, there was a vampire attack. We didn’t see the vampire, but there couldn’t be much doubt that it was her. That is confirmed in the final shot of today’s episode, when we see Angelique in the coffin, her fangs showing.
Recovering vampire Barnabas Collins is in the woods on the estate of Collinwood, searching for well-meaning governess Vicki Winters. He hears dogs howling, as they used to howl when he was in the grip of bloodlust. He goes to pieces at the memory.
Barnabas’ fellow searcher, Vicki’s fiancé Peter Bradford, sees him standing petrified. Barnabas asks him if he can hear the dogs. Peter says he can, and is puzzled that Barnabas was afraid he was hallucinating their sounds. Peter asks Barnabas if he is all right. Barnabas insists that he is just worried about Vicki, and resumes searching.
Shortly after, Barnabas finds himself in the foyer of the great house on the estate, slumped in a chair under his own portrait. He makes a sad contrast with the haughty figure in the painting. His friend Julia Hoffman enters, and he gives her a pleading look that emphasizes the contrast between his present weakness and the arrogant power he wielded when he posed for the portrait, more than 170 years before.
Barnabas tells Julia that he does not know how he got into the house. The last he remembers, he was in the woods and heard the dogs howling. She suggests that their noise may not mean anything, but he is sure there is some unearthly horror afoot.
Barnabas tells Julia something else he is sure of. Earlier this evening, Frankenstein’s monster Adam came to his house. Adam mistakenly believes that Barnabas created him, and demanded that he build a woman to be his mate. When Barnabas told him that would be impossible, Adam vowed to make him sorry, then left. Shortly after, Vicki came by for a brief visit. Barnabas is certain that Adam abducted Vicki to use as a hostage, and that the only ransom he will accept is the artificially created woman he has no way of supplying.
Barnabas goes to the telephone and announces he is going to tell the police what he knows about Adam. Julia objects that Adam can tell the police enough about the two of them to expose them both to prosecution. Barnabas says that he is willing to take that risk for Vicki’s sake, and begins dialing. Julia says she is not, and places her finger on the telephone receiver to end the call.
Julia has never been able to entirely conceal her dislike for Vicki, rolling her eyes when Vicki talks to her and making sarcastic remarks when Barnabas praises her, so regular viewers can hardly be surprised that Julia does not volunteer to go to prison for her sake. Still, Julia has often enough shown a troubled conscience about the many crimes she has committed during her association with Barnabas that her utter coolness represents a new step in the character’s development. The other day she wanted to shoot wicked witch Angelique, but Angelique was not really human and was enormously dangerous. Even so, Julia was deeply upset when she made up her mind to kill her, and she backed down when she came face to face with Angelique. But Vicki is resolutely, unfailingly, rather tediously good, Good with a capital G. That Julia is so blandly willing to consign her to death at Adam’s hands suggests that her sense of right and wrong will no longer serve as a brake on any sinister plans that might advance whatever goals she and Barnabas are pursuing.
Barnabas looks at Julia, shocked. Perhaps her coldness shocks him. Perhaps what shocks him is that he is so dependent on her that he does not resume dialing.
Meanwhile, another drama has played out not so far away. Electrician Tom Jennings was inspecting the wiring in a house that suave warlock Nicholas Blair is renting from the ancient and esteemed Collins family. Tom told Nicholas that he wanted to inspect the cellar to make sure the foundation was in good repair. Nicholas replied that this would not be necessary, but Tom insisted. He opened the cellar door, and found a coffin. Nicholas told him that the coffin was there when he moved in. Tom asked if he’d called the police, and Nicholas replied there was no need, since the coffin was empty.
On his way home, Tom told himself that the Collinses wouldn’t leave a coffin in the basement of one of their houses. That shows what he knows- for the first 55 weeks of the show, matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard thought that her husband was buried in a box in the basement of the great house, and when he was a vampire Barnabas kept his coffin in the basement of his house. It wouldn’t be a Collins house if it didn’t have a coffin in the basement, and a dungeon too.
Tom sees someone and asks who it is. The part of the other person is played by the camera, so we do not know. The camera zooms in, and Tom collapses.
Later, Peter finds Tom propped against a tree. He touches Tom, and Tom falls over, apparently dead. He has two bloody wounds on his neck. Peter goes back to the great house. He tells Barnabas and Julia that he must use the telephone. They hear him describe Tom’s wounds to the police. Afterward, Barnabas and Julia realize that there is another vampire operating in the area.
Tom’s appearance is the debut of Don Briscoe, who would be a big part of Dark Shadows for almost two years. On his Dark Shadows Every Day, Danny Horn told an amazing story about Briscoe:
Many years ago, when I was in high school, my mother walked into the room while I was watching Dark Shadows.
She looked at the guy on the screen, and said, “Is his name Don?”
I said, yeah, that’s Don Briscoe, and she said, “I thought so. I knew him, when I was in grad school. He asked me out once.”
Seriously, true story. She said that they were both getting a master’s in English — he was at Columbia University, and she was at Barnard, which is right across the street. He asked her out on a date, and he was very handsome, and very nice, but he wasn’t Jewish, so she said no.
At the time, I had no way to verify this, and I never really knew what to think about it. I mean, she knew the guy’s first name, but maybe she confused him with some other brown-haired guy named Don.
But now I have this excellent book called Barnabas & Company, which has extensive bios on everybody in the cast. It turns out that he really did get a master’s degree in English at Columbia University, and that means that Don Briscoe is kind of my dad.
Granted, hundreds of actors had parts on Dark Shadows over the five years of its run, a great many people have blogged about the show, and I’m sure Danny’s mother was a very attractive young woman who had offers from lots of fellows. But Briscoe was one of the more important members of the cast, and Danny is as good as any of the bloggers. So it really is a noteworthy coincidence that they are connected to each other in that particular way.
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.”
Wicked witch Angelique defied her supervisor, suave warlock Nicholas, one too many times. Yesterday, Nicholas stripped Angelique of her powers, including her immunity to aging. Since she is 194 years old, this leaves her with a sharply limited future.
Today, Nicholas tells Angelique he will think of sparing her from her imminent demise if she can persuade recovering vampire Barnabas to forgive her for her extreme abuse of him and of everyone he has ever cared about. She goes to Barnabas and begs him for forgiveness. Barnabas replies that when he asked her for forgiveness, she responded by turning him into a vampire. He does show signs of concern for her, but cannot pardon everything she has done. He specifically mentions The Dream Curse, a three month storyline that not only brought great suffering to him and a dozen other characters, but which also made the audience miserable. She dies.
Nicholas’ only acknowledged motivation to this point has been a selfless devotion to evil for its own sake. That makes it odd that he would place a value on forgiveness. Dark Shadows is pervaded with ghost stories, and ghost stories are, first and foremost, explanations of how unresolved conflicts in the past can poison relationships among people in the present. It is also a soap opera, and the biggest events in soaps are changes in the way particular characters feel about each other. So both genres tend to elevate forgiveness, not only as a virtue, but as the highest form of The Good in human life. We saw this in the first year of the show, when well-meaning governess Vicki kept forgiving strange and troubled boy David for his attempts to kill her, acts of forgiveness which culminated in #191 when David ran from the mother who was trying to lure him to his own death into Vicki’s arms and an acceptance of life. Two weeks later, in #201, dashing action hero Burke closed another narrative thread left over from episode #1 when he forgave sarcastic dandy Roger for an old grievance he had against him. With those events, it was pardoning that cleared the flotsam left over from Dark Shadows 1.0, paving the way for the introduction of Barnabas and the advent of Dark Shadows 2.0.
Perhaps Nicholas was so certain Barnabas would not be able to bring himself to forgive Angelique in the time available before her death that making her beg for forgiveness was his way of perverting the world’s best thing into yet another instrument of cruelty. Certainly he suggests this interpretation when he introduces the idea with a laugh and a comment that he might find it “amusing.”
When Nicholas stands over Angelique’s corpse, he tells her that her own hatred had made it impossible for Barnabas to forgive her because it had “become too much a part of him.” That Angelique’s hatred became a part of Barnabas rings a bell for longtime viewers. The show has always depicted supernatural beings, not as self-contained individuals, but as complexes of phenomena that operate more or less independently, often without each other’s knowledge, sometimes in pursuit of mutually exclusive goals. For example, in 1967 the ghost of Barnabas’ little sister Sarah visited David during the day and tried to prevent him finding out Barnabas was a vampire, but she also appeared to David in a dream and showed him everything the daytime ghost wanted to keep hidden. When David told the Sarah of the waking hours what her dream visitation form had shown him, she was horrified and forbade him from following up on any of that information.
When Angelique places a curse, she sometimes seems to create a little version of herself, give it possession of the person she is targeting, and turn it loose in the world. Sometimes that little Angelique turns against her. For example, she raised the body of Barnabas’ uncle Jeremiah from the dead to use for her own nefarious purposes, only to find that it would not return to its grave when she was finished with it. When Barnabas was a vampire, he had some obsessions that were strikingly similar to obsessions Angelique had shown. So Angelique wanted Barnabas to love her, and had the power to cast a spell that would make him do so, but instead wrought immense havoc on everyone else with one wild scheme after another, because she wanted him to come to her “of his own will.” Likewise the vampire Barnabas wanted to make Vicki his victim, but passed up one opportunity after another to bite her because he wanted her to come to him “of her own will.” That similarity is so close that it makes us wonder if the Barnabas we first met was simply Angelique in disguise. Not only her hatred, but all of her quirks had become part of him.
Angelique came from the 1790s to 1968 by some magical process that involved a portrait of her that is now on a stand in Vicki’s room. Today she uses a secret panel to let herself into the room and look at the portrait. We first saw that panel open when the show was a costume drama set in the 1790s. The room was occupied then by gracious lady Josette, and it was the vampire Barnabas who used the panel to enter. We haven’t seen the panel since, leaving it strongly associated with Barnabas in the minds of regular viewers. Angelique’s use of it today further suggests her identity with him when he is in his vampire state.
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 has learned that Frankenstein’s monster Adam is hiding in a room in the long-deserted west wing of the great house of Collinwood. He materializes there and talks as if he’s trying to recruit Adam into a self-esteem cult. He says “You mustn’t worry about what other people think, Adam. And you needn’t always do what other people want you to do. You must learn to be a strong-willed individual.” In response, Adam carefully articulates the new vocabulary item: “In-di-vi-du-al.” It sounds like the big guy will be signing up for courses at the Nathaniel Branden Institute in no time.
Later, we see Adam in the main part of the house. He has let himself into the bedroom where his patroness Carolyn Collins Stoddard, the acting mistress of Collinwood, is sleeping. He wakes her and tells her of Nicholas’ visit. Carolyn tells him to wait there while she goes to the drawing room and scolds Nicholas for wandering into parts of the house he had no permission to explore. Nicholas apologizes, and tells Carolyn her secret is safe with him.
In the final part of the episode, the wicked witch known variously as Angelique and Cassandra makes her way to Adam’s room in the west wing. She finds his door locked, and makes a graceful little hand gesture to magically open it. Standing over Adam while he sleeps, she decides that she cannot use magic to kill him, since Nicholas wants Adam to live and she would like him to believe that a human committed the murder. Therefore, she lifts an ax and is ready to chop into him when the episode ends. The ax wasn’t there earlier and she didn’t conjure it up; presumably she found it in “hammerspace,” the dimension where fans of animated cartoon say characters find whatever tools they need to do whatever the script calls for them to do at any given moment.
Adam’s residence in the west wing is a drab storyline, but longtime viewers will notice that it marks a change in the geography of Collinwood. The west wing was introduced as an area separated from the rest of the house, not only by a locked door, but some kind of metaphysical rift. In #14, well-meaning governess Vicki Winters saw the locked door inexplicably open and close itself; that was the clearest indication up to that point that in Collinwood, the word “ghost” referred to something more than unresolved conflicts among people. A reminiscence of that moment in #27 reinforced the suggestion that there was something supernatural about breaching the barrier between that wing and the main part of the house.
From #84 to #87, Vicki’s charge, strange and troubled boy David Collins, locked her up in a room in the wing; that was such an isolated place that it seemed Vicki might die before the family found her. Again, the distance was not only physical- while in captivity there she saw a full fledged ghost, a glowing figure dripping seaweed and singing to her. When sarcastic dandy Roger went to look for Vicki in #87, we saw him open the first of Dark Shadows‘ secret panels, a bit of the wall in the drawing room that opens to a long, dusty passage leading to the west wing. That was startling to see then, and we haven’t had a look at it since. Viewers who remember it have been looking at that spot on the wall ever since, wondering what worlds lie behind it.
Adam’s presence in the west wing fits in with its unearthly character, as do Nicholas and Angelique/ Cassandra’s activities there. But since those two witches live at Collinwood, the rest of the house has taken on that character as well. The separation of the west wing from the main part thus comes to lose its significance. Why shouldn’t Adam be able to visit the rest of the house, and why shouldn’t he know his way around well enough that he goes directly to Carolyn’s bedroom? Why shouldn’t unlovely ex-convict Harry Johnson, the most mundane character on the show now, have adventures in the west wing?
Angelique, the camera in front of her, the secret panel to the west wing behind her. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.
Mad scientist Julia Hoffman and suave warlock Nicholas Blair each want to find Frankenstein’s monster Adam before the other does. Julia is sure that occult expert Timothy Eliot Stokes knows where Adam is; while he sits at a chessboard and plays both sides of a game, she asks Stokes to tell her. He says he wants answers to some questions of his own, but the audience knows that the information he wants is just what Julia will never tell him.
Nicholas takes a less conventional approach. He raises the ghosts of a couple of the dead men whose corpses supplied the raw materials from which Adam’s body was constructed. One lacks a right arm, the other a head. He asks them where Adam is, and they turn in unison to point with their left arms at the great house of Collinwood. It’s such a smoothly coordinated move that it looks like they must be spending their time in the afterlife starting a boy band.
The Boneyard Boys showing off their signature move, the Postmortem Point. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.
The arm donor is played by David Groh, who less than a decade later would become a star as Joe on the sitcom Rhoda. Groh was such a charismatic performer that it’s hard not to think of speaking parts on Dark Shadows that other actors played badly and wonder what would have happened had he played them instead. I went on about that in a comment I left on Danny Horn’s Dark Shadows Every Day in 2020; here, I will just mention that if Groh, instead of the lamentably unaccomplished Craig Slocum, had played ex-convict Harry Johnson, we would probably have seen a red-hot love triangle in which Harry vied with Adam for the affections of heiress Carolyn Collins Stoddard.
Earlier in the episode, Adam had asked Stokes why it was not allowed for him to kiss Carolyn. Thayer David makes the most of this scene. Stokes freezes and looks up when Adam starts posing his questions, then seems genuinely shaken when he says that he is inadequate to the task of answering them, since he himself has never raised children. We can see that, in that moment, Stokes feels as incomplete as Adam. It’s touching to see Stokes’ usually supreme self-assurance give way to shamefaced uncertainty. When Stokes tells Adam to put away his budding sexual desires and to concentrate on his books, we catch a glimpse of the tragic side of Stokes’ own celibate, scholarly life.
But not even a father of twenty would be prepared for this situation. In the ten weeks he has been alive, Adam has become fluent in English and able to read with facility; he has the body of a grown man and moves with agility and force. Yet he knows absolutely nothing of human relationships beyond a basic understanding of the words “Friend” and “Kill!” It is hard to imagine that anyone has ever lived who needed the instruction Adam needs now.
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