television is a visual medium – Dark Shadows Commentary

Episode 946: To come to me willingly

In May and June of 1967, vampire Barnabas Collins held Maggie Evans, The Nicest Girl in Town, prisoner. He drank her blood, tortured her, and drove her insane. When Maggie escaped, he turned his attentions to well-meaning governess Vicki Winters. Maggie’s imprisonment was the storyline that first made Dark Shadows a hit, but it was bleak and often difficult to watch, and if its horrors had shortly after been reenacted with Vicki as the victim many viewers would likely have given up on the show. So Barnabas decided that he wanted Vicki to come to him of her own will. That avoided the problem, but left the show stuck in a rut. For the next several months, Barnabas did not have a coherent goal. Since he was the main figure in the A story, that left Dark Shadows spinning in circles.

They escaped from that rut in November 1967, when Vicki went back in time to the 1790s. The audience followed her there, and we found out how Barnabas first became a vampire. He had fallen afoul of wicked witch Angelique. Angelique wanted Barnabas to love her. Since her enormous powers were explicitly shown to include the ability to make people fall in love with each other, we wondered why she didn’t simply use that ability on Barnabas. They answered that question by having Angelique declare that she wanted him to come to her of his own will. She tried to attract his love by casting a series of spells on everyone around him, spells that resulted in death and ruin for the people he most cared about. When Barnabas found out what was going on and tried to kill Angelique, she turned him into a vampire.

Now it is January 1970, and Barnabas’ vampire curse is in abeyance. A race of Elder Gods called the Leviathan People are trying to retake the Earth from humankind, and have threatened to reactivate the curse if he does not help them. The Leviathans control a group of people whom they have formed into a cult devoted to their service. The Leviathans have brought a shape-shifting monster to life, and it is written that the monster will marry Barnabas’ distant cousin Carolyn Collins Stoddard and turn her into a creature like himself.

Angelique has renounced her powers and is trying to live as a mortal woman. The other day, Barnabas asked her to help him protect Carolyn from the Leviathans. Angelique no longer wants anything to do with Barnabas or anyone else from the estate of Collinwood, but she understands the threat the Leviathans pose and is willing to help Barnabas against them, provided she can do so without losing what she has in her current life. Barnabas arranged for Carolyn and her mother, matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard, to hide out at Angelique’s house while he tried to figure out a way of fighting the monster. Liz is a dedicated member of the cult, and believes Barnabas to be its faithful leader, so when Barnabas told her to take Carolyn to Angelique’s she complied at once.

Unknown to Angelique, her husband, hard-charging businessman Sky Rumson, is himself a member of the Leviathan cult. Thursday, he telephoned the monster and told him Carolyn was at the house; Friday he opened the door to the monster, and the monster went to Carolyn. Today, the monster decides that he will not impose the transformation on Carolyn after all. Instead, he will wait for her to come to him of her own will. This keeps the story from ending here, but it makes it unclear where it can go.

The monster’s decision poses a deeper problem for him as a presence on the show than the similar decisions did for Barnabas and Angelique. They pursued identifiable goals, and were influenced by thoughts and feelings they had while they interacted with others. The only goal the monster has is to take possession of Carolyn, and now it is unclear what that means. Nor is anything at stake for him in any encounter with another person. He keeps saying that he doesn’t need anyone, and that seems to be true- there is no reason to pay attention to him in any scene. He has, in short, been established not as a character at all, but simply as a function. All he has ever been is Threat. Now that he has decided to be nice to Carolyn, he will no longer even fulfill that function. His future would appear to be quite limited.

Sky also appears to be a short-timer. When Dark Shadows started, one of its most dynamic characters was hard-charging businessman Burke Devlin, played ably by the charismatic Mitchell Ryan. Despite all of Ryan’s magnetism, they could never come up with anything very interesting for Burke to do. Hard-charging businessman just isn’t a type they have much use for. They signal that Sky won’t be around long by casting Geoffrey Scott in the role. Scott was very handsome and would go on to a long career on screen, but in early 1970 he did not appear to have any skills of any kind as an actor. Not only does he deliver his dialogue as if he were reading a series of nonsense syllables aloud, but he is noticeably bad at hitting his mark. For example, on Friday Sky at one point backed away from Carolyn during a conversation. He took a step too far, with the result that his rear end was a few inches from a hearth with a vigorously burning fire. It was hard not to watch the seat of his pants and wait for it to ignite. There were times when they cast actors who still needed a lot of training and kept them around for quite a while, but Scott was at this point in his career so amazingly inept that it is hard to imagine they meant to use him for anything more than the decorative value his good looks offered.

Liz is at home in the great house of Collinwood when a man she has not seen before appears on the walkway above the foyer and starts giving her orders. He comes down and introduces himself to her by the name Bruno. He shows her that he is wearing a ring that identifies him as a member of the Leviathan cult. Liz says that he must have come to give her instructions. He confirms that this is so.

A howling resounds outside, and Bruno asks Liz about it. She tells him that she long ago met a wolf-like creature in the woods, and she suspects the howling comes from that creature. Returning viewers know that the Leviathans are vulnerable to werewolves and that the monster is terrified of them. Bruno knows this too, so he goes out to hunt for it.

The monster, in the form of a tall young man, comes to the great house to introduce himself to Liz. She is concerned when he tells her to stop taking orders from Barnabas, but delighted when he says that Carolyn has a future with “us.” Carolyn telephones from Angelique’s house, and Liz puts the monster on the phone.

Carolyn is all smiles when she is talking to the monster. They’ve met a few times, and he has been nothing but a jerk to her. She had objected to his behavior, and his responses had ranged from frightening to slimy. That she is all of a sudden attracted to him undercuts her character almost as badly as nerfing his threat to her undercuts his position on the show.

After the phone call, Bruno returns. He tells the monster he couldn’t find the werewolf. The monster declares that he will go to the Old House on the estate to confront Barnabas, whom he labels a traitor. Bruno points out that it is almost daybreak, and if he waits just a little while he will not be in danger from the werewolf. The monster says that it is too important to wait.

The werewolf chases the monster through the woods. By the time the monster gets to the Old House, he is shouting for Barnabas, the “traitor” he was planning to deal with, to come and help him. Barnabas is nowhere to be seen, and we end with the werewolf bursting through the window. The werewolf got a few closeups earlier in the episode, when he was nosing around in the woods. These always make him look like a cute widdle doggie. If they hadn’t given us those ridiculous images, his entrance through the window might have been a genuinely scary moment.

The right way to show a werewolf. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Carolyn’s scene at the beginning involves a couple of notable wardrobe-related points. She went to bed Friday fully dressed, even wearing shoes, and is still that way when she is back in bed today. Several times we have seen men go to bed shoes and all, but usually the women wear nighties. I think this is the first time we have seen a shod woman asleep in bed.

Carolyn falls on her back in the opening reprise. She is wearing a very short skirt, and this fall exposes her underwear. She is lying on the bed in several subsequent shots, and it must have taken some doing to keep the undies from making another unscheduled guest appearance.

Episode 944: The girl who wasn’t afraid of him

A werewolf is prowling through the woods on the great estate of Collinwood, and Sabrina Stuart, a young woman with white hair, sees him. She knows that when the moon is not full, the werewolf is her ex-fiancé Chris Jennings. She screams at the sight of him. This would be an understandable reaction if the werewolf were scary looking, but since he is a man whose face and hands are covered with hairy makeup appliances while the rest of him is wearing clothes, he is a just cute little doggie who might like a bickie. Television, they say, is a visual medium; that means that the images you put on the screen will stimulate the audience’s imaginations. If you are telling a story about a monster, you must show only enough of him to get them to wonder what terrible things he might do. Once you’ve shown so much that they start to laugh, you’re sunk.

Sabrina composes herself, and tries to reason with the werewolf. He stands there listening to her attentively, being the goodest little boy. This ends when a man emerges from the brush and jumps him. The man shoots the werewolf, who yips and runs away. Sabrina is upset with the man, who is surprised she does not regard him as her rescuer. She identifies herself by name.

The buttinski. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

The man’s name is Bruno, and he works for another monster, one whom we see only when he is masquerading as a young man. That monster once said he wanted to be called Jabe, but everyone very inconsiderately keeps calling him Jeb instead. Jabe has told Bruno that he is vulnerable to werewolves. Bruno disregarded Jabe’s report that only silver bullets can kill a werewolf, and fired regular ammunition. Jabe is upset about this.

Bruno tells him all is not lost. Since Sabrina was not afraid of the werewolf, his human form must be that of a man to whom she is close. Bruno says Sabrina has a brother, and thinks out loud that he ought to just go ahead and kill him. Regular viewers know that Sabrina’s brother, though he is not a werewolf, is a character played by Roger Davis, so we’re all for Bruno’s idea. But Jabe vetoes it, saying that if a werewolf is killed while in human form he will turn into the wolf and remain in that form forever. That’s new information on Dark Shadows, though there had been so many werewolf movies by 1970 I can’t imagine it was original.

Old world gentleman Barnabas Collins stops by the antique shop where Jabe lives. Barnabas had been the leader of the cult that serves Jabe, but has become disaffected. Jabe knows this. Each wants to kill the other, but neither has been able to make a substantive move. Jabe demands Barnabas do something about the werewolf, in the process exposing his vulnerability. Barnabas is friendly with Chris and knows all about him, so this exposure makes it possible for him and Jabe to join battle.

In the closing credits, writer Violet Welles’ name is misspelled “Wells.” Today’s script is not up to her usual standards; maybe “Violet Wells” was her guild-approved pseudonym.

Episode 931: Into strange rooms

Some invisible Elder Gods known as the Leviathans have taken control of a group of individuals in and around the area of Collinsport, Maine and formed them into a cult serving their plan to reclaim the Earth. Confusingly enough, the cultists are also known as Leviathans.

In 1949, deadbeat dad Paul Stoddard was leaving his family. On his way out of town, he stopped in a bar, where he ran into a Leviathan (whether one of the mortal or supernatural variety is never explained.) This being tricked Paul into selling his infant daughter Carolyn to the Leviathans. Late in 1969, Paul came back to town, where the leader of the new cult, old world gentleman Barnabas Collins, explained to him what he had done that night twenty years before. Since the deal was already made, it is unclear why Paul had to come back to Collinsport, why he had to be told what he had done, and why Barnabas had to be a big jerk to him about it.

Paul has been trying to warn people that something terrible is happening, and Barnabas has become disaffected from the cult. The Leviathans are based on concepts H. P. Lovecraft developed in his tales of cosmic horror, and the specific Lovecraft story from which they have been drawing most heavily is The Dunwich Horror. In that one, what appeared to be a rapidly-growing, unaccountably precocious boy named Wilbur Whateley turned out to be one half of an unearthly creature of vast destructive power. Their Wilbur analogue has been a series of children who live in the antique shop that cultists Megan and Philip Todd own. There is a room above the shop where the creature takes its true, invisible form. Yesterday Barnabas helped Paul escape from captivity, and Paul went directly to the shop where he let himself into the upstairs room. Barnabas and the Todds got Paul out of the room and locked him in the prison cell in the antique shop’s basement.* The episode ended with the creature approaching the door of the cell and Paul holding a chair to use as a weapon against it.

Today we open with the creature entering the cell. The metal door jumps off its hinges and disappears; the chair flies from Paul’s hands; and Megan looks down from the top of the stairs, a gleeful look on her face as she anticipates Paul’s grisly end.

Megan is thrilled to see what her baby boy can do. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Danny Horn devotes his post about the episode at his great blog Dark Shadows Every Day to a series of complaints about the invisibility of the creature, claiming that it is unsuitable to have something important on a television show that does not come with striking visuals, but I can’t believe that any monster effect would be as impressive as this sequence. Director Lela Swift really delivers with it.

Barnabas shows up in the nick of time and orders the creature to leave Paul alone. He wrangles it back to its room, then scolds Megan for letting it out. While this is going on, Paul staggers out of the shop.

In the street, Paul meets mad scientist Julia Hoffman. Julia knows that Barnabas is involved in an evil scheme. It is very unlike him to leave her out of those, so she is alarmed. She takes Paul to the apartment of her non-evil friend, occult expert Timothy Eliot Stokes.

Stokes and Julia comment on Paul’s appearance. His clothes are rotting away, as if they had been dipped in acid, and something is on him that emits a strong odor. This is a nod to The Dunwich Horror, in which the Elder Gods cannot be seen, but boy oh boy can they be smelled. “As a foulness you shall know them,” goes the refrain. Paul is in terrible shape and can’t talk. Julia vetoes Stokes’ suggestion that they call the police, and even after she notices Paul’s blood pressure dropping she does not suggest taking him to the hospital.

Stokes then shifts Julia’s attention to the B-story. He tells her that a friend of his is just about finished removing an overpainting from the portrait of Quentin Collins. Julia knows that this portrait, painted in 1897, freed Quentin of the effects both of the werewolf curse and of aging. Like the picture of Dorian Gray, it changes while Quentin himself remains the same. Quentin is back in town now, but he has amnesia. Julia believes that showing the portrait to him will jolt his memory back into place.

Julia lives as a permanent houseguest on the estate of Collinwood. We cut there, and see a woman named Amanda Harris pacing nervously in the foyer of the great house. Amanda was Quentin’s girlfriend in 1897, and was in that year granted more than 70 years of youth by a supernatural being named Mr Best. Mr Best said she could go on living even beyond that time if she could reunite with Quentin and get him to tell her her loved her. She has reconnected with Quentin, but since he doesn’t remember their past he doesn’t know he is in love with her. For some reason they don’t reveal to the audience she can’t tell him the truth. She has told Julia everything, and they have joined forces. We can assume Amanda is at Collinwood waiting for Julia to come back.

The telephone rings and Amanda answers it. It is Megan asking to speak with Elizabeth Collins Stoddard, owner of Collinwood and a member of the Leviathan cult. Amanda tells her no one is home. Megan asks who she is, and Amanda gives her current alias, Olivia Corey. As Olivia, she is a big star on Broadway, a fact which will be mentioned later today. There is quite a bit of overlap between antique dealers and Broadway fans, especially in the northeastern USA, and Amanda/ Olivia has been in Collinsport long enough that everyone must know she is in town. I try to imagine an antique shop owner in Bar Harbor or Kennebunkport asking a person on the telephone who they were, hearing “I’m Donna McKechnie,” and not getting excited. I suppose Megan’s continued focus on her own problem shows just how profoundly she is committed to the Leviathan cause.

Julia enters, and Amanda tells her that Mr Best will be coming for her in two hours. Julia replies that they must get Quentin to the portrait within that time.

They manage it. Quentin is noisily skeptical about the whole thing. He is frustrated that Julia keeps telling him he’s a hundred years old when he doesn’t look like he’s quite 29 yet, and even more frustrated that Amanda (who introduced herself to him as Olivia, and only today admits that isn’t her original name) won’t tell him when they met before and why she is so interested in him. Several times he threatens to leave the room before Julia can unveil the portrait. When she finally does, Amanda screams and runs out. Quentin reacts with fascinated horror.

Quentin can’t take his eyes off the painting. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Regular viewers, remembering the Dorian Gray bit, would have expected these reactions. If the moon is full enough, it will be the portrait of a wolf wearing an adorable little suit. Otherwise, it will show all the effects of 73 years of dissolute living. In neither case will it look much like the Quentin we know.

*That’s how people tell you they aren’t from Collinsport without saying they aren’t from Collinsport, they get all surprised when basements have prison cells.

Episode 930: Indoctrinated by his thinking

The current A-story is about a group of people under the control of the Leviathans, unseen supernatural beings. The Leviathans’ plan involves a mysterious force that has incarnated itself in a series of children, most recently an apparently thirteen year old boy named Michael, and will culminate in the obliteration of the human race. Since all of the actors who are under contract to appear on Dark Shadows are human beings, the success of this plot would leave Dan Curtis on the hook for a lot of buyouts, so we can be fairly sure the Leviathans will eventually fail. Besides, the non-human day players, such as the parakeet we saw in Wednesday’s episode, just haven’t caught on with the public.

Recovering vampire Barnabas Collins was originally the leader of the cultists who serve the Leviathans. Since his introduction in April 1967, Barnabas has been far and away the show’s biggest draw, so it is unlikely he will go down with the ship whenever the Leviathan story ends. Making him the chief villain means that we once more get to see him as he was when he was first on the show, an ice-cold, merciless villain, and also that we are in suspense the whole time as to how and when he will return to the side, not of good exactly, but of sustainable narrative development.

Three weeks ago, they decided to throw all of that away. Episode #915, aired on Monday 29 December 1969, was an homage to Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. As A Christmas Carol begins with Scrooge in his place of business denying a request from his subordinate Bob Cratchit, so #915 began with Barnabas in an antique shop in the village of Collinsport refusing to comply with a demand from Michael, who is currently under his charge. As Marley’s ghost appeared to Scrooge and warned him that he would come to a bad end if he did not become more obliging to Bob Cratchit, so an embodied Leviathan appeared to Barnabas and warned him that he would have to be more deferential to Michael. As Scrooge was visited by spirits representing his past, present, and possible future, so Barnabas is visited by a bat representing his former existence as a vampire, antique shop owner and fanatical Leviathan cultist Megan Todd representing his present, and a woman played by future four-time Academy Award nominee Marsha Mason representing the grim future that awaits him if he does not obey. As Scrooge ends by knuckling under to Marley’s insistence that he become joyous and loving, so Barnabas gives in to the Leviathan’s command that he go on acting on behalf of the plan.

Barnabas’ main activity yesterday was helping Paul Stoddard, who has been trying to warn people about the Leviathan cult, to escape from captivity in the great house of Collinwood, and his main activity today is trying to help Paul after he has sneaked into to the antique shop and come face to face with the mysterious force in its true form. Since his efforts are so completely counterproductive, they might have led viewers who missed #915 to wonder if Barnabas, still loyal to the Leviathans, has deliberately led Paul into a trap, or if he is sincere when he says he wants to help him and is just bungling as he usually does.

They might have, that is, had the show not gone out of its way to ensure it would not create any such suspense. Yesterday’s opening voiceover told us in so many words that the Leviathans were extorting Barnabas’ participation in their plot and that he was “desperate to find a way of stopping the menace.” Today, it tells us that Barnabas “has been forced to do things against his own will” but is trying “to secretly fight back.” As if that weren’t enough, today’s episode also interrupts a conversation between Barnabas and his sometime best friend, mad scientist Julia Hoffman, to give us an interior monologue in which Barnabas tells us exactly what’s on his mind.

Not only do they tell us too much today, they show us too much. Yesterday ended with Paul going into the room where the mysterious force is kept; we closed with a shot zooming in on the terrified expression on his face as he saw this force. We open with a reprise of that scene, which is harmless enough. But after the opening title, we return to the room and see Paul still standing around, still looking terrified. Eventually, Megan, her husband Philip, and Barnabas all come into the room as well and try to figure out how to get Paul out. The four-scene drags on and on, turning a quick moment of horror into a protracted scene of low comedy.

Dr Howard, Dr Fine, and Dr Howard come to Paul’s rescue. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

We also see too much of the antique shop itself. Yesterday Philip mentioned to Megan that he was going to add “a bolt” to the door of the room to keep the mysterious force from escaping. That left us free to picture a metal insert as massive as we please. But today we get a clear look at Philip’s handiwork, and it’s one of those little things that you accidentally tear out of the wall if you open the door when you forget it is latched. The mysterious force can’t be all that much of a threat if that bolt is enough to keep it in.

When Barnabas and the Todds finally extract Paul from the room, they take him to the prison cell in the basement of the antique shop. It has been well established by now that all houses in and around the village of Collinsport have prison cells in their basements, and since the Todds live above the shop they wouldn’t be up to code if they didn’t have one. The basement prison cells we’ve seen previously have been sparsely decorated, but this one features a stuffed deer’s head, a kerosene lamp, and several other objects. In that way it fits with the rule for disused spaces on Dark Shadows, which is to cram them with peculiar-looking junk. But since the only way into the cell is through a solid metal door, it would be easy for a prisoner to find a blunt instrument to bean any jailer who might come calling.

Again, this is a matter of showing too much. A person in a cell is already an intriguing visual- we are inclined to examine every detail of their expression, appearance, and attire to see how they got there, how they feel about it, what might happen to them while they are confined, and whether they might get out any time soon. You can add to that interest by juxtaposing them with other people or showing them looking at objects they can’t reach, but heaping up miscellaneous props is at best a distraction.

Episode 926: I don’t want to know who you are

This episode has the same story as Friday’s.

The current A-story is about the coming of the Leviathans, mysterious beings who act through a cult that has absorbed several people in the village of Collinsport and on the estate of Collinwood. Antique shop owners Megan and Philip Todd have been entrusted with the care of a creature that has assumed the forms of several human children in succession. This creature, currently presenting itself as a thirteen year old boy named Michael, is extremely obnoxious to everyone for no apparent reason, prompting them all to reconsider their commitment to the program. Philip is ready to turn against the Leviathans; Megan from time to time admits that he is onto something, but by the end of yesterday’s episode was back under Michael’s control. She had said Philip needed to be got out of the way and picked up a gun.

Old world gentleman Barnabas Collins goes to the Todds’ shop in the village. He finds Megan pointing her gun at Philip and orders her to cut it out. Barnabas had been the leader who initiated the Todds into the cult and as we hear his thoughts in internal monologues today we hear that he still has some loyalty to it, but Michael has been too much for him. When he tells Megan to listen to him instead of Michael, she is shocked at his sacrilegious words. He hastily claims that he was only testing her.

Barnabas and Philip have a staff conference. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Every Day.

For his part, Michael is at the great house of Collinwood. Last night he was there as the guest of strange and troubled boy David Collins, who has shared supervision of the Todds with his distant cousin Barnabas. David’s governess, Maggie Evans, is not a member of the cult, and she had done something that bothered Michael. So he trapped her in the house’s long-disused west wing. She is still trapped there, and he has returned to use his powers to torment her further. David is anguished about this, but does not feel he can oppose Michael.

Maggie’s captivity prompts us to ask just why it is so frustrating that this episode is essentially a duplicate of Friday’s. In May and June of 1967, Barnabas was a vampire, he was holding Maggie prisoner in his basement, and there were a number of duplicated episodes. It was during that period that the show first became a hit, and it is that story that every revival of the show, from the 1970 film House of Dark Shadows on, goes out of its way to incorporate.

I think what kept people coming back to watch Barnabas’ imprisonment of Maggie was not so much what he was doing to her, but his relationship with his blood thrall Willie. In the course of Barnabas’ abuse of Maggie, Willie went through all of the psychological phases that Megan, Philip, David, and Barnabas exhibit today. I think the actors playing all four of those characters live up to John Karlen’s performance as Willie; even those who disagree with me on that will have to concede that some of them do good work. So the problem is not with the performances.

Rather, these episodes fall short because the character of Michael does not have the depth Barnabas had in the spring and summer of 1967. We kept wondering what Barnabas was thinking, and the more we learned about him the more puzzled we became, since all his ideas were so crazy. In his role as Barnabas’ external conscience, Willie gave us grounds to hope that we would eventually reach a layer of his mind where the nonsense would give way to something intelligible. But we don’t wonder what Michael is thinking, because there’s no evidence Michael is thinking at all. He demands submission from all and sundry and flies into a rage the instant he encounters resistance. He is just a spoiled brat.

Moreover, as a vampire Barnabas needed people to protect him during the day and to surrender their blood to him at night. When David is slow to submit today, Michael tells him he doesn’t need him or anyone else. This seems to be all too true- nothing is at stake for Michael in any interaction. No matter what Michael Maitland brings to the part, no matter how well his four Willies play their roles, the character is a dead end.

One viewer who seems to have been carried away with his frustration with this one is Danny Horn, author of the great blog Dark Shadows Every Day. His post about it includes some rather obtuse remarks about the performances, some of which fit with his usual shortcomings (e.g., his habitual underestimate of David Henesy’s acting.) But in other comments he loses track of his own analysis. For example, time and again throughout the blog he stressed that the show was made for an audience that saw each episode only once, and that their memories of the images that had appeared on their television screens would drift over time. When a particular moment makes a big enough impact that it is frequently referred to in later episodes and is a topic of discussion among fans, the images of that moment that appeared on screen during the original broadcast are at most a starting point, something that the viewers build on in their imaginations, so that the pictures that memory supplies soon enough have little or nothing in common with what was actually produced.

Danny makes all of these points over and over. Yet his post on #926 ends with this objection to the invisible form Michael and the other Leviathan boys assume when they are supposed to be mighty:

Dark Shadows actually has a great track record at creating scary things out of not that much money. The legendary hand of Count Petofi was incredibly cool and memorable — a Halloween decoration that they invested with real power. The scariest thing about the legendary hand was that it wasn’t under anybody’s control, even Petofi’s; it would fly around on its own, doing unexpected things. Not an expensive or difficult effect, just good writing, using what they have to tell an interesting story.

Television is a visual medium; we need to see the thing that the story is about. “It’s better in your imagination” is just a way to weasel out of coming up with a compelling visual. If you can’t actually show us the monster, then maybe you should consider a non-visual medium like print, or radio. Or not doing it at all.

Danny Horn, “Episode 926: The Shark, and How to Jump It,” posted on Dark Shadows Every Day, 15 September 2016.

I reached that point in Danny’s blog more than four years after the post went up, but even so I felt compelled to join those who piled on him for those two paragraphs. Here’s what I wrote:

I don’t think there would be a point in showing the monster. If the monster had done anything really scary, our imaginations would be working overtime to frighten us. Any image they put on screen would let the steam out of our anxieties. And since it hasn’t done anything scary, we won’t be worked up when we see it. Looking at it calmly, we’ll just be examining a costume or a prop or a visual effect or whatever.

Now, you can show the audience a thing or a person that looks harmless, and then build up fear around it. That’s what they did with The Hand of Count Petofi, which Barnabas observes with utter contempt when Magda first shows it to him, but which then wreaks havoc. Or you can build up a fear, introduce a person, and suddenly connect the person with the fear in an unexpected way. That’s how they gave us Barnabas- Willie opens the box, there are vampire attacks, a pleasant man shows up wearing a hat and speaking with a mid-Atlantic accent, and then we see that man without his hat, waiting for Maggie in the cemetery. There are lots of ways to scare an audience, but showing a picture of something that’s supposed to be scary isn’t one of them.

Comment posted 17 December 2020 by “Acilius” on Danny Horn, “Episode 926: The Shark, and How to Jump It,” posted on Dark Shadows Every Day, 15 September 2016.

I still agree with that, more or less, though I suppose it makes the creative process sound a lot tidier than it ever is. I do wish I’d thought of the comparison I make above between the four disaffected cultists and Willie. Danny’s blog was still drawing comments in those days, and I think that would have attracted some responses.

Episode 894/ 895: The time of the Leviathan people

Old world gentleman Barnabas Collins has become the leader of a mysterious cult. Antique shop owners Megan and Philip Todd are members of the cult, and they have a magical baby who materialized after Barnabas gave them a sacred box. Inside the box was a book that is also of tremendous importance to the cult. Philip and Megan left the book on a table in their shop, so that it appeared to be for sale. Yesterday strange and troubled boy David Collins stole the book. In its absence, the baby has developed a high fever. When Megan and Philip found that the book was gone, they flew into a panic and declared that they would have to kill the person who took it.

Many stories on Dark Shadows start with David, so it could be that the uncanny and sinister forces behind the cult want him to have the book. If so, Barnabas doesn’t know any more about it than do Philip and Megan. He finds out today that the book is missing, and takes Philip to a cairn in the woods. He tells him he will have to be punished for losing it.

When Philip first saw the cairn, he remarked that he had been that way before, but never noticed it. Barnabas explains that only people connected with the Leviathan cult can see it. This casts the minds of returning viewers to heiress Carolyn Collins Stoddard, Barnabas’ distant cousin. In #888, Carolyn saw the cairn and ran into a prowler there. The prowler refused to identify himself to her; the closing credits told us he was Paul Stoddard, Carolyn’s long missing father. We had seen him from behind the day before, when he saw the cairn materialize, then simply walked off. His blasé response told us that he expected to see what he saw, which can only mean he was connected with the cult. Carolyn doesn’t know anything about the Leviathans, but what Barnabas says to Philip today confirms that she is nonetheless associated with them in some sense. Indeed, Barnabas has been very solicitous of Carolyn’s well-being ever since he joined up with the Leviathans and keeps telling her that she has an extraordinary future.

Philip and Barnabas at the cairn. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

There is also some business going on between Paul and Carolyn. On the surface it would seem to be a typical soap opera story, in which the daughter is trying to reintroduce her errant father into the family circle and has to keep secrets from her mother and young cousin to pull it off. Given what we know about Paul’s awareness of the Leviathans and their interest in Carolyn, we can see that it is in fact part of the supernatural A story.

There are no closing credits today, only the logo of Dan Curtis Productions. The Dark Shadows wiki says that this one was directed by Henry Kaplan. I am certain this is false. Kaplan was very clumsy with the camera, resorting to closeup after closeup and then to ever-more extreme closeups until you have scenes played by one actor’s left ear opposite another’s right nostril. Today, there is a scene between Carolyn, David, and Barnabas in the drawing room of the great house at Collinwood, a scene in which Carolyn presses David with questions about the book, that is so expertly choreographed that only Lela Swift could have blocked it. My wife, Mrs Acilius, marveled at the dance that Nancy Barrett, David Henesy, and Jonathan Frid execute so flawlessly.

This episode is double numbered to make up for a planned pre-emption, when the ABC television network showed football at 4 PM on the afternoon of Thanksgiving Day. Every Friday’s episode was supposed to have a number that ended with a five or zero, so that all you had to do was divide by five and you would get the number of weeks the show had been on. That didn’t work this time, because there was also an unplanned pre-emption when the network’s nes division took the 4 PM slot to cover the return of the Apollo 12 mission. They are producing episodes well ahead of their airdates at this point, in a couple of cases over five weeks ahead, so it will be a long while before they can get back in sync.

Episode 890: They will be strangers, but you will know them

Like many episodes of Dark Shadows, this one ran long and ended with credits only for the cast and for Dan Curtis Productions. The entry on the Dark Shadows wiki says that the director was Lela Swift. I am sure that it was in fact directed by Henry Kaplan. This shot of Nancy Barrett as heiress Carolyn Collins Stoddard is proof positive:

There is another flagrant Kaplanism in today’s first scene between antique shop owners Philip and Megan Todd (Christopher Bernau and Marie Wallace.) Philip enters from upstairs. He stops with his waist at the top of the frame. That’s where he stays for the first part of the scene, ending with Megan raising a paper that covers part of her face. Evidently what’s happening between the characters is none of the audience’s business.

Swift was a talented and ambitious visual artist, Kaplan a sloppy and unimaginative one. He relied heavily on closeups. When it dawned on him that it was dull to hold the frame just beyond the edges of an actor’s face, his response was to zoom in and give us an extreme closeup of some part of the actor’s face. It’s above average for him that the first shot above includes Miss Barrett’s eyes- he specialized in shots displaying the face from the nostrils down, and often held them even after the actors had to move, leaving us with the sight of an ear drifting out of our view.

Even when Kaplan’s tight little frames do not keep us from figuring out what is happening in a scene, they deprive us of the energy that comes from seeing the players interact with each other. We don’t get statements and reactions simultaneously, and we don’t see the actors using the space between them to tell us how the characters feel about each other. Kaplan was also a pretty bad director of actors, regularly poking them with a stick as his way of telling them he wanted them to play a scene differently and on one occasion fastening a handle to a child actor so that he could physically place him on his mark during rehearsal. So perhaps his mania for closeups reflected a lack of awareness of what actors do and how the choices they make contribute to the audience’s experience. As a result of his insensitivity to these and other visual aspects of the medium, Kaplan’s episodes would often be better suited to radio than to television.

Fortunately, the dialogue today is peppered with snappy lines. So Danny Horn devotes his post about the episode on his great Dark Shadows Every Day to a selection of memorable pieces of dialogue. That also makes me suspect the wiki is not entirely correct. It attributes the script to Gordon Russell, an able writer overall but one who is not at all given to bons mots. I use bits of dialogue whenever possible as the titles of these posts, and I often have to search very hard through Russell’s to find suitable ones. It was Violet Welles who excelled at producing those. Russell and Welles often collaborated, so it could be that he wrote a draft to which she added the quotable quotes.

The current story centers on a mysterious cult that has sent time traveler Barnabas Collins back to 1969 from a long sojourn in 1897, by way of a couple of days in 1796. Under the influence of the cult, Barnabas is being a real jerk to his friend, mad scientist Julia Hoffman. Barnabas was a vampire for a long time, and even when he is free of the effects of that curse he habitually resorts to murder to solve his problems. But the victims of those murders are imaginary, played by actors who will go on to find other work, so we don’t usually stay mad at him for any length of time when he commits them. His friendship with Julia, on the other hand, is the emotional core of the show. Barnabas’ coldness to her in yesterday’s episode and today’s leads us to see what the cult is doing to him as the greatest crime anyone has ever committed on Dark Shadows.

Barnabas was a pop culture phenomenon familiar to many millions of people who never saw a single minute of Dark Shadows. The show’s fanbase largely consisted of his devoted followers. So a story about a cult which co-opts him as its leader and changes his personality so that he is impossible to get along with directly addresses a fear that must have blacked out the mind of Dan Curtis every time the postal service truck loaded with Jonathan Frid’s fan mail backed up at ABC Studio 16.

Barnabas brought a box with him from his visit to the eighteenth century, and it is of the utmost importance to the vast eternal plan the cult is working on that the box not be opened until the right time. So Barnabas put it on the mantel in his living room, and when Julia was standing a few inches from him he lifted it from the mantel and placed it on a table in the middle of the room. When she asked what it was, he became flustered and refused to answer any questions about it.

When Julia left the house, Barnabas left the room, with the front door unlocked and the box still on the table. Today, we open with Julia coming back in, hearing the sound of breathing coming from the box, finding its key on the table next to it, and placing the key in its lock. Barnabas comes in just in time to stop her opening it, but we can see that the cult probably could have chosen an agent with a better sense of operational security. Barnabas’ function in the story is to make messes that other people will have to clean up, so as soon as we heard that the box must not under any circumstances be opened we expected him to leave it where it would inevitably fall into the hands of someone bent on opening it, though it is a bit disappointing he has done so this quickly.

After he has taken the box from her, Barnabas berates Julia, orders her from his house, and tells her he owes her nothing. He abruptly sweetens up and tells her that he is only carrying on that way because of some kind of temporal jet lag. He reminds her that when she traveled back in time in September, she was very ill for a while; he suggests that his surly mood might be the result of the same shock that caused that reaction. About a minute after he starts on this new tack, just as Julia has started smiling again, a knock comes at the door. It is Carolyn.

We don’t know what effect the cult’s co-optation of him has had on Barnabas, but regular viewers know that characters on Dark Shadows are always acquiring one magical power and losing another. For the last few months of the 1897 segment, the show’s main villain was sorcerer Count Petofi. One of Petofi’s signature moves was to become aware of visitors shortly before they arrived. It could be that the writers have decided to give the cultified Barnabas that power, and that it was because Carolyn was on her way that he wanted to put Julia in a good mood.

That interpretation is supported by what follows. Carolyn is delighted to see Barnabas; she hadn’t known he was back from his trip to 1897. She hugs him and he smiles, a stark contrast to his icy reaction when Julia hugged him yesterday. She wants to talk about Chris Jennings, a young man she dated a few times and whom she has been told is dangerous. Julia and Barnabas have befriended Chris and know that he is a werewolf. Julia thinks she can somehow control Chris’ transformations, and she urges Carolyn to think well of him. Barnabas tells her to trust her instincts and to avoid Chris. He keeps telling her that she is too important to be allowed to come to harm. Later, he visits Carolyn in her home, the great house on the estate of Collinwood, and he keeps going on and on about how important she is and how confident he is about her future. He also gives her a silver pentagram, an amulet to ward off werewolves, and urges her to wear it at all times. He subsequently has another scene with Julia in his own house, and he is just as cold and dismissive as he was in the first scene, exploding at her for being “irrational.” Evidently the cult has plans for Carolyn, but not for Julia.

Julia bought a painting from the Todds the other day, and now they have received a telegram offering to buy it regardless of price. Julia goes to their shop and discusses the telegram with them. She believes that the telegram, which is signed “Corey,” may actually be from Quentin Collins, a distant cousin of Barnabas’ whom he befriended during his time in 1897 and who may have been immortalized by a magical portrait painted by the same artist responsible for the picture Julia bought. She tells the Todds that she is not certain she wants to part with the painting, but that she would very much like to meet “Mr Corey,” and that she believes others in town would also like to do so. She urges them to reply to the telegram with an invitation.

Barnabas stands over the box. We hear his thoughts as he mulls over his questions about it. He suddenly declares “It is time!” Then he goes to his chair and sits down. Evidently, it is time to take a load off.

Barnabas has a vision of one of the hooded figures who inducted him into the cult. The figure, a man named Oberon, addresses him as “Master” and tells him that he is to give the box to people who wake him by knocking at his door. There is a knocking, he does awaken, and he goes to the door.

Episode 859: Not this grownup

Nine year old Nora Collins enters the drawing room of the great house of Collinwood. She walks in on her father, the stuffy but lovable Edward, embracing Kitty Soames, the dowager countess of Hampshire. She gives them a dirty look and says she supposes Edward is too busy to join her in a game of checkers. He says he does have to run an errand, but suggests that Nora play with Kitty.

Kitty is eager to ingratiate herself with Nora, who clearly wants nothing to do with her. Nora asks, in an icy voice, if the reason Kitty wants to be her friend is that she is planning to marry her father. Returning viewers suspect she is right. Kitty and Edward have more in common than they know. Both are penniless, each is sure the other is very rich, and each imagines marriage to the other will solve all their problems. Kitty can’t very well level with Nora about this, so she claims that the women in the Collins family, being outnumbered by the men, have to stick together. Nora does not hide her distaste at Kitty’s inclusion of herself among the women of the family. Kitty asks Nora if she wants her father to be happy. Nora drills her eyes into Kitty’s face and says in a firm, flat voice “I want that.”

Nora asks Kitty if she is just letting her win at checkers. While she is asking this, Nora moves twice in one turn and takes three of Kitty’s pieces. Kitty watches this without protest and denies that she is letting her win. She then says she wants to concede the game and listen to whatever information Nora is willing to share about the family.

Nora is not impressed with Her Ladyship. Screenshot by Dark Shadows Before I Die.

Edward comes back from his errand to find Nora packing up the checkers and the board. He asks if she enjoyed her game with Kitty. Not looking up, Nora says they never finished it. Kitty hastens back in and asks if she wants to finish it now. Edward points out that it is getting close to Nora’s bedtime. He kisses her, and bids her say goodnight to Lady Hampshire. Kitty asks Nora to call her by her first name. Nora pointedly says “Good night, Lady Hampshire.”

It doesn’t show in her scenes with Nora, but Kitty seems to be suffering from a severe mental health crisis. Returning viewers know that the ghost of Josette Collins is taking possession of her, and suspect that she will turn out to be a reincarnation of Josette. Edward knows enough about the supernatural doings on the estate of Collinwood that he might give Kitty the benefit of the doubt when, for example, she comes running in today and is shrieking about a haunted house, a vanishing woman, and a curse that follows her everywhere. But she is so often so highly distraught that Nora must have noticed that she is not right in the head, and she can hardly look forward to having such a person as a stepmother.

Shortly before Nora enters, Edward calls Kitty “Katie.” This is a small enough slip of the tongue, but Kathryn Leigh Scott’s friends call her Katie, so it is a case of an actor’s name in place of the character’s. I think I can see Louis Edmonds blush a little when he realizes what he has done.

This episode marks the final appearance of Nora, and very nearly the last time we will hear Nora’s name. I think she was badly underused, disappointingly so after the outstanding work Denise Nickerson did as Amy Jennings in the months leading up to the segment set in 1897. She will be back later, in other parts.

Director Henry Kaplan was not much of a visual artist, and his deficiencies are particularly glaring today. Especially during Kitty and Nora’s first scene, the camera keeps drifting up to the actors until we see a randomly selected two-thirds of their faces in extreme closeup. Once the shot excludes the eyes or the mouth, it abruptly pulls back. Even the successfully framed closeups are rarely in focus, and you can forget about finding coherent visual storytelling in any kind of shot other than a closeup. The actors themselves do a good job, in spite of Kaplan’s notoriously unpleasant behavior towards them, but aside from a few evocative facial expressions, most of them by Nickerson, it may as well have been a radio play.

Episode 818: I have but one, and his name is Petofi

The disastrously repressed Charity Trask knows that rakish libertine Quentin Collins is a werewolf, and she wants to warn everyone about him without actually saying the facts out loud. She corners maidservant Beth Chavez in the drawing room of the great house at Collinwood and urges Beth to end her romance with Quentin.

Charity keeps saying that there is something about Quentin that Beth does not know. In fact, Beth not only knows everything Charity does about Quentin’s curse, but a great deal more. She was the very first person to know that Quentin was a werewolf, before Quentin himself knew. She was with him the first time he transformed, and when he became human again in the morning she refused to tell him what she had seen. She had previously seen Quentin murder his wife Jenny, she knows that Jenny’s sister Magda placed the curse as vengeance for that murder, and she was the one who told Magda that Jenny had borne children to Quentin who would inherit their father’s curse. Beth is the foremost authority on Quentin’s condition. But she is protecting him anyway.

Charity then goes to a set known to longtime viewers as the Evans cottage. In the parts of Dark Shadows set between 1966 and 1968, this set is home to artist Sam Evans and his daughter Maggie, The Nicest Girl in Town. Today the dramatic date is 1897, but the cottage is already an artist’s studio. It is occupied by Charles Delaware Tate, a nationally renowned painter who was commanded by the evil sorcerer Count Petofi to execute Quentin’s portrait. When we first saw Tate in the cottage, he said that he rented it because he’d heard about it from a friend who had stayed there some time before.

The cottage is full of paintings and sculptures. This is odd for a rental. Several possible explanations come to mind. Did Tate bring a dozen or more of his own works to keep him company? Did his friend or other artists who had rented it leave their completed pieces behind? Did the landlords display their own collection there for the edification of their tenants? Easy as these explanations are to think of, none of them seems very likely, and the question is never addressed in the show. The out-of-universe explanation is of course that when the audience looks at an artist’s studio, it expects to see a lot of artwork, and the artwork here gives director Lela Swift a chance to make good use of color.

At any rate, the set is gorgeous today, full of bright greens and mixed reds. Swift was a highly ambitious visual artist, and she outdoes herself here. The first shot in the cottage begins with a closeup of the portrait of Quentin. It then pulls back further than any previous shot of this very familiar set, showing us a lattice that used to be part of the set representing the kitchen/ breakfast nook area at Collinwood. Behind it is a plant with some large, intensely green foliage. We then track around the set to see several sculpted pieces in black, paintings in a variety of tones, and a whole array of vivid colors in the furniture and other decorations. Dark Shadows has come a long way from the clumsiness that marked its use of color when it first switched from black and white in #295.

Charity is unaware that she and Tate are not alone. Tate’s master, Petofi, is in the next room eavesdropping. Charity is horrified to see the portrait of Quentin, and reminds Tate that she saw Quentin’s features in the portrait change into those of a wolf when she visited the cottage on the night of a full Moon. Tate tries to convince her she did not really see such a thing, but she will not have it. Charity gives Tate a warning somewhat less incoherent than the one she had given Beth. After she exits, Petofi and Tate talk. Tate had suspected Quentin was a werewolf, and now is sure. Petofi says that his plans for Quentin are none of Tate’s concern.

Petofi goes to the great house. Quentin confronts him there, demanding to know by what gods he swears. He replies “I have but one, and his name is Petofi!” Charity sees Petofi and vehemently demands he leave. I don’t know why she does this. As far as I can recall, Charity knows Petofi only as Victor Fenn-Gibbon, an honored guest of the Collins family. He did cast rather a nasty spell on her when he was using that alias, but I don’t see why she would realize that he was to blame for it, or for any of his other misdeeds.

Whatever the motive for Charity’s angry reaction to him, Petofi responds by magically robbing her of the power of speech. When he tells her that he has a healing touch, his manner and the background music indicate that after he touches her, what Charity will say will never again be up to her.

My usual themes: Lela Swift

In 281 of the posts that follow, I link to comments I made on Danny Horn’s blog, “Dark Shadows Every Day.”

Not all of these comments were absolutely unique. Several times I brought up the contribution Lela Swift made to Dark Shadows. Swift directed 595 of the show’s 1225 episodes, including the first and last installments, and she also served as line producer of the last 127 episodes. Only series creator and executive producer Dan Curtis could be said to have had more impact on Dark Shadows than did Swift, and very few people could be said to have had as much.

Danny’s background, like mine, is in literary study. I know I have a tendency to overemphasize the writer’s contribution to a dramatic work at the expense of the director and other visual artists, and I think he does too. Many of my remarks about Swift reflected my conscious effort to overcome this bias of mine, and incidentally involved my disagreeing with him.

Here’s a comment I made about episode 299. In the original post, Danny argued that the writers must by that point have intended to present mad scientist Dr Julia Hoffman as suffering from unrequited love for vampire Barnabas Collins. Some posters in the comment thread pointed out the visual similarity between the scene from which Danny draws his evidence and a scene in The Sound of Music in which a love triangle is developed. I tried to make the point that these similarities are more to do with elements under the control of the director than of the writers. So, while there is a reason to think that there was an intention to tell that story, we can’t be sure exactly whose intention that was:

THE SOUND OF MUSIC was such a big hit, so fresh in people’s minds in 1967, and the way the actors are positioned on this new set looks so much like it that I can’t believe the resonance wasn’t intentional. I don’t know if that means that the Barnabas/ Vicki/ Julia love triangle was already intentional at this point on the part of the writers, but it is strong evidence that it was on the part of director Lela Swift.

In a comment on episode 1116, I say that the new burst of energy that many in the comment threads had found at the beginning of the segment of the show set in the year 1840 came just as Swift was made producer, and suggest that she may deserve credit for it.

In a comment on episode 1166, I rebut one of her detractors:

“If Lela had been the executive producer, Dark Shadows would have been off the air after the first 13 weeks.” Perhaps so. But without her as the principal director, it’s doubtful there would have been a single episode anyone would have remembered. The endlessly ambitious visual compositions and the hyper-intense acting style originated with her, and she had as much as anyone to do with the fact that there was always an episode in the can ready to go on the air at 4 PM five days a week.

In a comment on episode 1244, I compare Swift to the only other director on Dark Shadows in its dying days, the woefully inept Henry Kaplan:

This episode and the one before also show that, even though television is famously Not A Director’s Medium, a director can have great importance from time to time. Episode 1243 was really rather good, and that is entirely to the credit of Lela Swift. The pacing is rapid, the visual composition tells as much of the story as we could want it to do, and she elicits good performances from all the actors, even Keith Prentice.

In this one, Henry Kaplan keeps moving the actors around in tight little spaces, with the result that they have to shuffle from one set of marks to another. Even worse, he indulges himself in a series of dissolves, each of which would probably have looked cluttered and been distracting under the best of circumstances, but with the camera faults in this episode it’s as if the TV screen is at the bottom of a pond. Poor Keith Prentice, finally doing a good job of acting for a second consecutive episode, winds up looking like the world’s biggest idiot when a closeup of him laughing in wicked triumph dissolves to a shot of the cobwebbed room.