Parapsychologist Peter Guthrie calls on blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins at the cottage where she is staying. He tells her that the charred remains of an unknown woman found in the burned ruins of her apartment in Phoenix, Arizona have inexplicably vanished from the morgue where they were being kept. Laura reacts to this news with shock. Guthrie asks her why the news means so much to her. She denies that it means anything to her, and demands he leave. She warns him that something will happen to him if he doesn’t leave her alone. He asks what she means by this warning, and she refuses to answer.
Laura sizes up Guthrie
Guthrie was usually rather quiet and retiring from his second appearance, in #161, until yesterday. He first showed anger then. He’s agitated again at the beginning of today’s episode, and he holds his ground with Laura. Evidently he is ready for a confrontation.
Dashing action hero Burke Devlin charges into the cottage. He is rude to Guthrie, who makes a few pointed remarks and then leaves. Burke takes over asking Laura questions she won’t answer. When he too leaves, she looks exhausted. She hastens back to the hearth and sits by the fire, which seems to be the source of her energy.
Guthrie returns to the great house of Collinwood. He calls for well-meaning governess Vicki. Then Laura’s face is superimposed on the screen. Guthrie wobbles, takes his glasses off, and falls down.
Yesterday, we saw that Guthrie was considering the same three explanations of Laura’s relationship to the supernatural that the audience had in mind when we had the same information he has now. Perhaps a supernatural force has followed her to Collinwood and is doing things she knows nothing about. Perhaps a supernatural force is attached to her and acts on her unconscious impulses without her knowledge. Or perhaps she herself is the force, and is actively making the strange goings-on go on.
Today, Guthrie takes an interest in Laura’s reaction to the news of the vanishing corpse. A focus on this reaction makes us wonder just how Laura works. We have gathered that she is a humanoid Phoenix, who achieves a cyclical immortality by periodically incinerating herself at some point before reappearing as a living being. We also know that the charred remains of two other Laura Murdochs who died by fire were buried in the town of Collinsport in previous centuries- the body of Laura Murdoch Stockbridge in 1767 and of Laura Murdoch Radcliffe in 1867.
Now it is 1967. The corpse in Phoenix had been identified as Laura Murdoch Collins, and has disappeared. Perhaps we are to gather that when the humanoid Phoenix incinerates herself, she initiates a multi-stage process. The fire separates the woman into a dead body and a living Doppelgänger. The Doppelgänger is surrounded by magical occurrences, and as she gathers strength she is able to direct these magical occurrences to bring the process to its climax. Laura’s shocked reaction to the news that the body has disappeared, coupled with her signs of tiredness and her repeated assertions that she is running out of time, suggests that the disappearance of the body is an event outside her control. It marks the end of one stage of the process and the beginning of another. Evidently it means that Laura has even less time to complete her task than she had thought. If that is how it works, then we would expect that the charred remains deposited in the grave of Laura Murdoch Radcliffe and in the tomb of Laura Murdoch Stockbridge would also have vanished, and that the coffins in those places would also be empty.
Parapsychologist Peter Guthrie has been doing a lot in the three weeks since he first appeared on Dark Shadows, but today is the first time we see him upset. He made an audio recording of the séance that he organized in the great house of Collinwood last week, and now blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins has erased the tape and replaced it with the sound of fire crackling.
Dr Guthrie tells his friend, instantly forgettable young lawyer Frank Garner, that he isn’t sure exactly what it means to say that Laura erased the tape. Maybe there is some supernatural force that accompanies Laura but acts independently of her. Or maybe the force is one that grants her wishes, perhaps without her knowing it. Or maybe she herself is actively doing the strange things that everyone has been puzzling over lately.
When Laura first came on the show, the audience was invited to weigh these same three alternatives. She was mysterious in speech, vague in manner, and ethereal in appearance. She seemed to be in more than one place at a time, and to conduct herself very differently in each place. She ate nothing, drank nothing, had no material possessions, and spent most of her time sitting motionless, staring into the fire.
Recently, Laura has become a more substantial being. We’ve heard her make threats and seen her cast spells to carry them out. She has materialized in rooms, but then gone on to join conversations in other rooms. She has met with other characters and planned strategies. We still haven’t seen her eat or drink, and it is still hard to get her attention when she’s by the fire. But she gets so agitated when she talks about how little time she has to achieve what she must do that she seems to be quite corporeal. So we are leaning pretty heavily towards Option 3, but it is interesting to see that Dr Guthrie’s view of Laura today is what ours was a month ago. That does make sense- his knowledge of her now is about what ours was then.
The idea of Laura is an interesting one, but her story is developed at the slowest possible pace. They’ve been filling time lately by harking back to story points from the early weeks of the show that didn’t lead anywhere when they were first introduced, and then giving us a scene or two in which they still don’t lead anywhere. Today, I was afraid this was about to happen again. Hardworking young fisherman Joe comes to the house to deliver some papers, and has a conversation with flighty heiress Carolyn. When Dark Shadows started, these two characters had been dating for a long time. They were bored with each other, and the audience was bored whenever the camera was pointed at them. They gradually broke up, and now Joe is seeing Maggie, The Nicest Girl in Town. For a couple of minutes, it looks like we are about to have another scene in which Carolyn tries to start their relationship back up, leading to an endless recap of what happened between them to end it.
But that isn’t what happens at all. Instead, we have a sequence in which Carolyn and Joe talk about what is going on in their lives now and how they feel about it. Their attitudes towards their past influence that, but the main point is that Carolyn is more mature than she has ever been and Joe is more independent than he has ever been. If you were to analyze it in terms of plot points, you’d have something like “Joe offers to be Carolyn’s friend. She considers this offer from several points of view. He tells her that don’t have to be friends if she doesn’t want to be. She seems to want to be.” Hardly the stuff of a stirring adventure tale, but as they play it, the exchange goes a long way towards explaining why we care about these people. Carolyn was often exasperatingly selfish and impulsive in the early months of Dark Shadows, and Joe was such a one-dimensional Mr Nice Guy that you couldn’t imagine him doing anything to surprise an audience. But the woman and man we see today have real feelings and real problems, and a story about them could be exciting.
In the first week of Dark Shadows, we had a couple of brief glimpses of the administrative offices of the Hammond Foundling Home, a fictional institution in New York City where well-meaning governess Vicki lived before she came to Collinwood. A few times since, there have been scenes set in the town of Bangor, Maine. Today, we leave the northeastern USA for the first and only time in the entire series. They take us to Phoenix, Arizona.
Phoenix, Arizona: A cactus-eye viewA street in Phoenix, Arizona, where each car is driven by an office worker carrying money she has embezzled from an obnoxious guy in a cowboy hat.The Phoenix police got their sign from the same place as the Collinsport sheriff’s office
Two policemen are filling out papers in an office there. One we have seen before. He is Lieutenant Dan Riley of the Maine State Police, and he has been hanging around asking Laura what if anything she knows about a woman whose charred corpse was found in what was left of her apartment in that city after it burned to the ground. The other is Lieutenant Costa of the Phoenix police.
Lieutenant Costa had been convinced that the woman who died in the fire was Laura Murdoch Collins, and all the scientific evidence his department has been able to gather has confirmed that identification. But of course there is a woman living in Maine who can also be proved to be Laura Murdoch Collins, so the authorities have decided to bury the remains as a Jane Doe.
Regular viewers might be puzzled as to why Lieutenant Riley had to go all the way to Arizona. The Phoenix police had a body to identify, and Riley asked Laura some questions on their behalf. But he never had an investigation of his own to conduct. Seeing him here, we might jump to the conclusion that there was more to Riley’s task than we saw on screen, though we can’t really imagine what it might have been. The performance of John Harkins as Lieutenant Costa goes a long way towards selling this idea; Harkins’ guest spots would become a staple of prime time network television in the 1970s and 1980s, and it’s easy to see why. His embodiment of a weary cop having to give up on an important case he’s been working on for a long time lets us believe that the premise makes sense. His scene partner, Vince O’Brien, doesn’t undercut Harkins. Riley seems as weary as Costa, though he doesn’t do anything special to express his weariness
Riley and Costa go to the morgue. This is a large set, well realized visually and even more so acoustically. The actors’ voices echo musically while the camera zooms steadily in on them. They open the vault in which the unidentified body was deposited, and find that it is empty.
Friday, Dark Shadows showed us its first séance. Yesterday, the people who attended that séance tried to figure out what it meant. Today, word of the séance starts to get out to people who weren’t there.
These three episodes also involve wrapping up a lot of loose ends that only people who watched the show from the beginning will remember. Friday’s episode harked back to the ghostly image we saw in #30. Yesterday’s episode drew a line under the alarmingly inappropriate crush flighty heiress Carolyn had on her Uncle Roger in the first few weeks of the show. Today, dashing action hero Burke Devlin shows that he is still laboring under a misunderstanding that led him to a dead end in #89 and #99.
In those episodes, Burke was trying to take his revenge on the ancient and esteemed Collins family by hiring the most valued employees away from their cannery. He was confident he would succeed in this plan because he had more money than the Collinses. In #89, he explained that confidence to his lawyer with a bunch of cliches rich guys use when they are villains in old movies: “Money talks. Money buys loyalty. Everyone has their price. Name it and you can buy them. Some just come a little higher than others, that’s all, but everyone is for sale.”
Those men all rebuffed Burke’s offer, as hardworking young fisherman Joe had refused Burke’s attempt to buy his loyalty in #3. Burke believes that the Collinses’ power comes from their money. His failures suggest that it is more nearly the other way around. The Collinses dominate the town of Collinsport because the population is so much in the habit of deferring to them that they can’t really imagine any other way of life. Simply by living in town, they have been indoctrinated into an ideology that puts the Collinses at the center of everything. Though from the perspective of the outside world Burke may have come back to town as a representative of high finance and large-scale capitalism, in the eyes of the locals he might as well be trying to start a communist revolution.
The one Collinsport resident who has agreed to take Burke’s money as payment for working against the Collinses is Mrs Johnson. For many years, Mrs Johnson had been the faithful housekeeper to cannery manager Bill Malloy. In her first appearances, Mrs Johnson talked of her unrequited love for Bill and her conviction that the Collinses were responsible for his death. Wanting revenge on them, she agreed to Burke’s plan to take a job as housekeeper at Collinwood and to give him whatever information she could gather. He has been paying her ever since.
Today, Mrs Johnson comes to Burke’s room and announces she has some information she would give him even if he weren’t paying her. This remark will strike regular viewers as absurd. Those who remember Mrs Johnson’s early appearances know that her motivation for joining with Burke was not his money, but her drive for vengeance. Those who have seen her since, including earlier in this episode, know that she always tells everyone she meets everything she knows. Her usual conversational gambit is to declare “I mind my own business, and expect others to do the same!” and then divulge the entire contents of her awareness, including everything she learned by her incessant eavesdropping on everyone in the house.
In Mrs Johnson’s case, Burke is overlooking not only the power of ideology, but also the persistence of personal habits. Mrs Johnson not only does not need to be paid to give information; no amount of money could keep her from giving information. She can’t be incentivized out of telling too much, because she doesn’t know that she is doing it. She is perfectly sincere when she says “I mind my business!” or “I’m not a gossip!” or makes any of her other usual protestations.
One thing Burke and Mrs Johnson have in common is a tender regard for well-meaning governess Vicki. The séance was very hard on Vicki, because her body was the scene of a battle between the ghost of Josette Collins and blonde fire witch Laura. Josette had possessed Vicki in order to warn the company about Laura, but Laura used her own powers to drive Josette from Vicki before she could say her name. Now Vicki is spending the day sick in bed. After talking with Burke, Mrs Johnson goes back to Collinwood and takes it upon herself to keep anyone from bothering Vicki.
The first person to try to see Vicki is visiting parapsychologist Dr Guthrie. Mrs Johnson stands on the stairs and forbids him to go up. He tries to persuade her that, as a doctor, he might be able to help. She responds that the only way he will get to Vicki’s room is by knocking her down and walking over her. At that, he gives up and goes to the drawing room.
Keeping Guthrie at bay
Laura then comes to the house and tries to see Vicki. Mrs Johnson takes exactly the same line with her. Laura is more aggressive than Guthrie had been, and tries to walk past Mrs Johnson. Mrs Johnson puts her arm in the way to physically block her. Laura too gives up and goes to the drawing room.
Keeping Laura at bay
There, she finds Dr Guthrie listening to the audiotape he made of the séance and taking notes. We hear Vicki’s voice desperately muttering about “le tombeau vide” before he sees Laura and shuts the player off. He explains that he does not want anyone who was at the séance to hear the recording, as he does not want it to color their recollections.
Laura and Guthrie talk about the tape recorder and about his use of electronic devices in his work as a scientist. Not even actors as capable as Diana Millay and John Lasell can make this dialogue seem to have much point. But a few weeks ago, friend of the blog Courtley Manor called my attention to a 1957 novel for children, David and the Phoenix, by Edward Ormondroyd. I think there is a reference to that book in this scene.
Ormondroyd’s David is a preteen boy who climbs a mountain and finds himself in a magical realm where he comes face to face with the Phoenix. The Phoenix is initially guarded with David, but relaxes when David says that he doesn’t know any scientists. Evidently the Phoenix’ great goal is to be left alone, and scientists were to learn that there really was such a bird as the Phoenix that goal would forever pass out of reach.
Some of the similarities between Dark Shadows’ “Phoenix” storyline and David and the Phoenix may be the result of common source material. In #140, Laura tells David that her real home is a magical world that sounds quite a bit like the place Ormondroyd’s David stumbles upon. But from the 1930s through the 1960s, the legends of the Holy Grail were a staple of university English departments in the USA, and many of those associate the Phoenix with just such places. So it could be that both Edward Ormondroyd and Malcolm Marmorstein had read Wolfram of Eschenbach or someone like him. And “David” was an extremely common name for boys born in the USA in the 1940s and 1950s, so that could be a coincidence.
But when The Scientist appears in Ormondroyd’s book and emerges as the great enemy of the Phoenix, Ormondroyd presents The Scientist in terms of his equipment. He must wait for his equipment to arrive before he can act against the Phoenix, he puts a great deal of effort into transporting his equipment and setting it up, and he suffers his climactic defeat when the Phoenix sabotages his equipment. So readers of Ormondroyd’s book would have to see a nod to it in this conversation between Guthrie the Scientist and Laura the Phoenix.
After Laura has left, Guthrie calls urgently to Mrs Johnson. He asks her if she touched the tape recorder. She tells him she wouldn’t touch the machine with a ten-foot pole. He plays the tape back, and shows that the sounds of the séance have been replaced with the sounds of a crackling fire. Ormondroyd’s readers will remember that The Scientist did not give up after the Phoenix destroyed his equipment, and will expect Guthrie to try to find new ways to fight Laura.
When we heard the crackling on the tape, Mrs Acilius jokingly asked me when the show was made. “This was before Watergate, right?” Yes, indeed; Dark Shadows was not making a reference to the 18 1/2 minute gap in the Nixon tapes. While the consensus among scholars today is that that gap was caused accidentally, it is amusing to imagine that someone in the White House in those days was a Dark Shadows fan and took a page from Laura’s book. I guess the president’s daughter Tricia was into the show for a while, but even if the erasure were deliberate she wouldn’t have been a very likely suspect.
Yesterday, we saw the first séance on Dark Shadows. Today, the characters who participated in that séance try to make up their minds about what it meant.
At opposite poles stand flighty heiress Carolyn and her uncle, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger. Roger declares that he has made up his mind to forget all about the séance, and demands that its organizer, visiting parapsychologist Dr Guthrie, be expelled from the great estate of Collinwood. Carolyn regards the séance as a success, and tells Roger that Guthrie will be continuing his work. They quarrel about this difference. There are weighty threats veiled in the dialogue. Their voices are sometimes quite sharp, but their facial expressions and body language are anything but. Watch the scene without sound, and Carolyn looks like she is pleading with Roger, while he just looks sad. They are losing something that neither of them wants to let go.
Something is ending
In the first weeks of the series, Carolyn spoke rather alarmingly of her crush on her uncle. Her flirtation with Roger’s enemy, dashing action hero Burke Devlin, somewhat reduced the intensity of that crush, dialing it down from frankly incestuous to merely disquieting. After the Carolyn/ Burke flirtation ended, we had some scenes where we were reminded of Roger and Carolyn’s odd intimacy. This scene marks the end of all that. Roger might still address Carolyn as “kitten” from time to time, but the red flags are furled for good and all. Dark Shadows won’t be developing any kind of storyline about unsavory goings-on between Carolyn and Roger, or using hints of such to emphasize any point they might want to make about the weirdness of the Collins family.
Well-meaning governess Vicki had a rough time at the séance. The ghost of Josette Collins used her as a mouthpiece, and blonde fire witch Laura used her powers to keep herself from being named as the source of the recent troubles and as a danger to her son, strange and troubled boy David. Caught in the crossfire between these supernatural beings, Vicki was exhausted and disoriented. At 2:15 AM, Laura materializes in Vicki’s bedroom, waking her. Vicki is bewildered by Laura’s presence. Like a dream in ancient Greek literature, Laura stands at the foot of Vicki’s bed and makes a speech. Unlike those Greek dreamers, Vicki talks back, engaging Laura in conversation. Laura’s point is that Vicki ought to quit the service of the Collinses and leave Collinwood immediately. She tells Vicki that she will be taking David away soon in any case, removing the need for a governess. Vicki looks away from Laura for a moment while gathering her thoughts. When she looks back, Laura has vanished.
Laura has appeared and disappeared in this manner before. This time, it would seem that she is trying to raise a question about Vicki’s sanity. Vicki might think she was dreaming, or might wonder if she is suffering some kind of hallucination. She might also tell others in the house all about the incident, leading them to wonder the same things about her. If Laura can undercut Vicki’s confidence in herself, she might reduce her overall effectiveness as an adversary. If others start to wonder whether Vicki might be given to psychotic breaks, the events of the séance might seem less significant.
Blonde fire witch Laura Murdoch Collins has returned to Collinsport, Maine, after a long absence. She wants to divorce her husband, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins, and to go away with their son, strange and troubled boy David. Roger is delighted by this prospect, but he is dependent for his living on his sister, reclusive matriarch Liz, and Liz is adamant that David must stay with her in the great house of Collinwood.
Last week, things came to a head between Laura and Liz. Liz declared that she would never let Laura take David, and Laura responded by casting a spell on Liz. As a result of the spell, Liz is bedridden and given to bouts of confusion.
Well-meaning governess Vicki suspects that Laura is connected with the supernatural. Yesterday, Vicki and her boyfriend, instantly forgettable young lawyer Frank, came across some documents that she interpreted to support this suspicion. Frank is one of Liz’ attorneys and Vicki is for all intents and purposes a member of the Collins family. Further, the ghost of Josette Collins has intervened a number of times to guide Vicki to become the protagonist in the story about the dangers Laura poses. So it would seem that a potent alliance is taking shape against Laura.
Today, another member seems to be joining this force. Liz’ only acknowledged child, flighty heiress Carolyn, initially reacts to the doctor’s recommendation that her mother be moved to a hospital in Boston by agreeing to talk her into it. Then it dawns on her that it would be very convenient for Roger and Laura if Liz were away from the house. She makes some pointed remarks to each of them in turn. She does not say that she thinks Laura is responsible for what happened to Liz, but she is hostile enough that she is unlikely to discourage Vicki’s efforts.
As Liz, Joan Bennett has a lot of screen time today, all of it in bed. You can see why she was such a big movie star in her youth- all she really has to work with are her eyes, and with those alone she holds what could have quite a dreary episode together.
Liz looking at Roger with alarm
Liz considers the idea of going to the hospital, and tells first Carolyn, then Vicki, to stand up to Laura. When each points out in her turn that, as David’s parents, Laura and Roger have certain legal rights to which they must yield, she declares that they are too young to fill in for her in her absence, and resolves to stay in the house.
Vicki leaves the room and Laura appears, sitting on the foot of Liz’ bed. Liz is outraged and demands to know who let her in the house. Laura assures her that no one else knows she is there. The first time Laura insinuated herself into the house, lighting effects made her look like a ghost. She interacted only with David, in circumstances that suggested the whole thing might be a dream he was having, then vanished. Now she is very corporeal, and after her talk with Liz she heads downstairs to talk with Roger and Carolyn in the drawing room. She seems to be gaining strength, becoming able to sustain her form and assert her personality for longer periods. The alliance forming against her will have its work cut out.
Carolyn goes up to Liz’ room while Roger and Laura talk about what Liz’ absence might mean for their divorce. Roger says that as long as Liz can speak, she can keep them from getting what they want. Laura says that may not be as much of a problem as he thinks. At that, they hear Carolyn scream. Roger runs up to Liz’ room and finds that she is catatonic. In the drawing room, Laura smiles.
In episode 10, reclusive matriarch Liz had napped in a chair in the drawing room of the great house of Collinwood. Her sleep was troubled by unpleasant dreams; we saw her shifting in the chair and heard her muttering about ghosts. Strange and troubled boy David awakened her when he came in, having just sabotaged his father’s car in an attempt to murder him.
Liz’ troubled sleep in episode 10
Today, we open with well-meaning governess Vicki sleeping in the same chair, showing the same signs of discomfort, and muttering in her sleep words she had heard Liz say in a mad scene at the end of yesterday’s episode: “fire… stone… bird…”
Vicki’s troubled sleep in episode 157
Vicki awakens, not to find David returning from a homicidal errand, but to be overwhelmed by the presence of the ghost of Josette Collins. She smells Josette’s jasmine perfume, and the picture is out of focus. She walks around the room talking to Josette, whom we can neither see nor hear. She agrees to some instruction from Josette only she can hear.
Vicki’s boyfriend, instantly forgettable young lawyer Frank, shows up. He is complaining that Vicki called him at 5 AM, asked him to come over at once, and still won’t explain why.
Liz’ brother, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins, appears at the top of the stairs and demands to know what Frank is doing in the house. Vicki claims that she wants Frank to take her for a drive in the country to help her clear her head. This makes sense to Roger. Liz is in a very bad way, for no reason the doctors can determine, and it has been a rough night in the house. Roger tells Vicki that he thinks it would be a good idea if she and Frank did take a drive. He is going to need a lot of help today, and the more relaxed Vicki is, the better able she will be to provide it.
The audience knows what Vicki has come to suspect, that Roger’s estranged wife Laura is a blonde fire witch who is responsible for Liz’ condition. Laura is staying in the cottage on the estate and she and Roger have begun the process of divorce. Laura and Liz clashed about guardianship of David, and Laura responded by casting a spell on Liz. With something like this in mind, Vicki wants Frank to take her back to a cemetery where they found some clues about Laura last week.
It is interesting to see Vicki with Frank in this episode. She is usually very demure, rarely looking anyone directly in the eye and consistently using a soft, delicate voice. She is that way today when Roger is around. But she looks straight at Frank and tells him in a crisp, candid tone just what they are going to do and why they are going to do it. That’s one of the reasons I keep wishing someone other than Conard Fowkes had played Frank. Fowkes is so dull that he simply could not survive on a show like Dark Shadows, but Frank is a character who gives us a chance to see a seldom-glimpsed side of Vicki.
Frank and Vicki visit the Caretaker of the cemetery outside town. In the archives of his building, Vicki smells jasmine and feels Josette’s presence. The Caretaker catches a distant whiff of jasmine too, but only Vicki’s nose can lead her to where Josette wants her to go. Josette pushes a book off a shelf and opens it to a page about a Laura Murdoch Radcliffe, who died by fire in Collinsport in 1867. Since they already know of another Laura Murdoch who died by fire there in 1767 and of someone who is medically indistinguishable from Laura Murdoch Collins who died by fire in Arizona earlier this year (1967,) Vicki finds great significance in the interval of 100 years. She tells Frank that the Laura Murdochs who died in Collinsport in 1767 and 1867 and the woman who died in Arizona this year are parts of the same corporate entity that is represented by the woman staying in the cottage.
Patrick McCray and Wallace McBride of “The Collinsport Historical Society” gave up writing daily episode commentaries around the time Ron Sproat joined the writing staff of Dark Shadows, but McCray does have a post about this episode. As usual, his remarks are thought-provoking:
We are about fifty episodes away from the introduction of Barnabas Collins, and you can feel the show straining with the need for it. We are at least watching a supernatural show, now. Going back to something less exotic will take the charm of a Dennis Patrick to pull off. He and Laura have something new that they are bringing/will bring to the show. One of the problems with the first six months of the show is how sad it is. The villains are wracked with guilt, somewhat grating in their personalities, and driven by necessity. Laura changes that. Her contribution to the show is less supernatural than philosophical. She likes who she is. She likes what she’s doing. She is demented enough to see that burning David alive is just dandy. Contrast this with Roger. He just wanted to be left alone, like a quietly queeny, ineffectual Hulk.
I’m not at all sure Laura “likes what she’s doing.” Most of the time, what she’s doing is sitting motionless by the fire. She is stirred from that position only when someone calls for her, and then only with difficulty.
The only times happiness registers on Diana Millay’s face are when Laura is talking to David and telling him about the blissful life that awaits in the fantastic realm she comes from, not about the path she must take to approach that realm. At other times, her dominant mood is weariness and her manner is so distant as to be inscrutable. With characters other than David, she is energetic and immediate only when she flies into a rage.
We don’t even know how many of her there are. Vicki tells Frank at the end of today’s episode that Laura seems to be made up of four components, but the audience also knows of ghostly apparitions that seem to travel with those corporeal Lauras and to be at least partly independent of them. Maybe somewhere in that complex there is a spirit that delights in the idea of taking David into a pyre, but we don’t see that delight.
McCray goes on:
Burke? He just wanted to even the odds. I get that. But his victory would mean shutting down Collinwood, and that gives any viewer mixed feelings. As much as I like Burke, his storyline misfired because you’re left with nobody to root for. If Burke wins, the show has to end, and that’s not going to happen. For Burke to lose, justice must elude him once more, and a character we like goes away. I suppose that the show originally was so Vicki-centric that we weren’t supposed to care for either Team Burke or Team Collins compared with Team Winters. With the arrival of Laura, all of this changes. (I say this because Matthew was a loon and couldn’t take pride in his wrongdoing.) Like Burke and Roger or not, everyone is pitted against/used by the first in a series of Gloucesters employed by the series to delight viewers.
Ibid
McCray is exactly right that Burke’s original storyline could never be resolved. The character had an even bigger problem that prevented the writers from coming up with a new storyline for him. That problem is his type. As a dashing action hero, sooner or later he’s going to have to rescue someone. Yet he never gets to save anyone from anything.
The first three rescues on the show are all rescues of Vicki. David locks her up and leaves her to die in the abandoned part of the great house of Collinwood. Burke doesn’t have access to that part of the house, so she ends up being rescued by Roger, of all people. That adds some complexity to Vicki’s attitude to Roger, keeps her from catching on to some plot points she isn’t supposed to understand yet, and most importantly enlarges the obstacles keeping her from befriending David, thereby enriching the one narrative arc that works every time we see it.
Next, gruff groundskeeper Matthew tries to break Vicki’s neck in the cottage. Liz saves her that time. It would have to be her, since she is the only person Matthew listens to. That’s the in-universe reason. Also, Joan Bennett is the biggest star on the show, the origin of the relationship between Liz and Vicki is supposed to be the biggest secret in the show, and the mostly-female audience of a daytime soap might be interested in a scene where a female character saves the day. So it is more satisfying all around to have Liz rescue Vicki from Matthew than it would have been to have Burke barge in.
When Matthew is holding Vicki prisoner in the Old House on the estate and is about to swing an ax at her head, Burke is in the area looking for her. But it is the ghosts of Josette and the Widows, accompanied by the ghost of beloved local man Bill Malloy, who rescue Vicki then. Burke and Roger show up after the fact and walk her home. The show has spent so much time building up the ghosts and the supernatural back-world behind the continuity in which the characters operate that it would be a cheat if they did not come forward at this point and bring a story to its climax. Again, Burke is left on the outside looking in.
Now David needs rescuing, but since the show’s most reliably interesting storyline has been the budding friendship between David and Vicki, she is the only one who can be his rescuer. Burke is got out of the way by having Laura entrance him with the memory of their old love. Since the threat to David is supernatural, this is also an opportunity to bring the ghosts back into play.
When the vampire story begins, Burke will become entirely superfluous. A dashing action hero can’t allow a bloodsucking fiend to run amok. But stop the vampire, and you stop the first ratings generator the show has ever had. So that will finish Burke once and for all.
Further:
I may be so-so on the Phoenix as a big bad on the show, partly because she was such an out-there villain, grounded in an unclear mythology. Nonetheless, she ushered in a sentient, supernatural threat and a new school of evil that finally gave viewers a moral compass to lead them through Collinsport.
Ibid.
It may be pedantic to point this out, but it is the nature of supernatural mythologies to be unclear. Once you pass the point where the laws of nature that we can examine out in the open apply, it’s up to the audience to guess at what the alternative structure of cause and effect might be. The storytellers can guide our guesses. Vicki’s discovery that the three Laura Murdochs died by fire in 1767, 1867, and 1967 leads her to tell us that the hundredth anniversary of the previous fire has the power to cause the next one. The power of anniversaries will indeed become a major part of Dark Shadows’ cosmology, coming up in several future storylines, and is the inspiration for my posting these blog entries at 4:00 pm Eastern time on the 56th anniversary of each episode’s original broadcast.
When you get to vampires and witches and Frankensteins and werewolves and other relatively familiar monsters, you can draw on horror movies produced by Universal Studios in the 1930s and endlessly shown on television since the 1950s, and beyond those on the plays, novels, and folklore from which those movies derived some of their imagery. That reduces the amount of explaining the protagonist has to do. We all know what blood and bats and wooden stakes and crosses and mirrors and daylight signify in connection with vampires, for example. That creates an impression that there are clear and logical rules, but when you hang out with the vampire for a thousand episodes you start to realize just how little sense any of those rules really make.
Laura is interesting precisely because she starts without any of that unearned sense of clarity. The show has to build her up to the point where she makes enough sense that we are in suspense, but not to go beyond that point and explain so much that we can’t avoid realizing how disconnected she is from the world we live in. I’d say they strike that balance quite well.
Moreover, because we have so little information about Laura, she is the perfect adversary for the supernatural beings we have met so far on the show. The ghosts of Josette and the Widows are definitely around, but they are deep in the background, seldom seen, even more seldom heard, and when they do intervene in the visible world their actions are brief and the consequences of them ambiguous. These vague, distant presences are credible as a counterforce to a figure as undefined as Laura, but have to evaporate when a menace appears that calls for a dynamic response sustained over a long period. Since the show has spent so much time hinting around about Josette and the Widows, it would be a shame if they hadn’t come up with a supernatural adversary for them to engage.
Back to McCray:
This episode is rich in atmosphere and menace, but anything involving the mysterious Caretaker will do that. It serves up Collins history as a net that strangles generation after generation… and the place where the answers to today’s mysteries will be found. The show has always been about the past… Paul Stoddard, the car accident, Vicki’s parentage… but (Widows notwithstanding) never beyond the lifetimes of the protagonists. By having our heroes deal with ancient dangers that still long to cause harm, DARK SHADOWS truly begins.
Ibid.
I demur from lines like “Dark Shadows truly begins” at some point other than episode 1. The whole wild ride of improvisation and reinvention is what I find irresistible. Each period of the show has some connections to the one immediately before it, but as time goes on there is absolutely no telling where they will go. Watching this part, the so-called “Phoenix” story, you can just about see how it follows from the moody, atmospheric showcase that Art Wallace and Francis Swann’s scripts provided for fine acting, ambitious visual compositions, and evocations of Gothic romance in the first 20 weeks of the series. And you can just about see how the period of the show that comes after it is resolved follows from the Phoenix. But when you look at the stories they will be doing in 1968 and later, all you can do is ask how they could possibly have found their way from here to there. Going along for that chaotic, meandering journey is the fun of it, and you deny yourself a little bit of that fun every time you ignore or downgrade an episode.
I also have reservations about the remark that “This episode… serves up Collins history as a net that strangles generation after generation.” The 1767 incarnation of Laura Murdoch married into the Stockbridge family, and the Caretaker told us they were great and powerful. The 1867 version of her married into the Radcliffes, and the Caretaker is shocked to find that her parents are not listed in his records- the Radcliffes were so high and mighty that none of them would ever have married someone whose parents were not known. So the history that strangles generation after generation is not the history of a single family, but something about the part of central Maine where Collinsport is. “Laura Murdoch” is a curse that falls on each prominent family in the region in its turn.
Yesterday, several characters saw clear evidence that supernatural forces are intervening to warn that the mysterious and long-absent Laura poses a grave danger to her son, strange and troubled boy David Collins.
High-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins was one of those characters. In keeping with his family’s traditions, Roger habitually responds to signs of the supernatural by going into denial. He has an especially strong motive for denying that there is anything alarming about the relationship between David and Laura. David is his son, Laura is his wife, and he wants to be rid of them both. Laura wants to divorce him and leave with David, a prospect he finds most attractive.
At the insistence of well-meaning governess Vicki, Roger tells reclusive matriarch Liz some of the signs that uncanny beings are at work. In response, Liz decides to go to Laura and tell her that she may no longer see her son.
The confrontation between Laura and Liz takes place in the cottage where Laura is staying now that she has returned from her long absence. Laura points out that it is absurd for a child’s paternal aunt to forbid his mother from seeing him. The only case Liz could make in answer to this objection would rest on yesterday’s supernatural manifestations, but even if she had seen those events first-hand that isn’t something you can really bring up while conducting an argument in the modern world. So the two women just make assertions about their respective strength of personality.
Upstairs at Collinwood, David was crying before Vicki managed to calm him by telling him his mother’s favorite story, the legend of the Phoenix. In his sleep, he is crying again. Laura appears as a glowing figure in the corner of the room. She awakens him and stands at the foot of his bed.
Laura appearsLaura speaks
The oldest surviving version of the legend of the Phoenix appears in the Histories of Herodotus. Many passages in Herodotus describe dreams, and they all represent the dream as a figure standing at the foot of the dreamer’s bed, making a speech to him. That’s the usual form dreams take in ancient Greek literature generally, in fact, and that Greek image of the dream has had its influence in later writing. So I suppose it could be that Laura’s visit to David is a nod to the sources of the Phoenix legend, and it certainly could be meant to suggest a familiar way dreams are depicted in literature.
Diana Millay usually plays Laura as a dreamlike figure, rather vague in manner and stilted in speech, and this scene is no exception. David Henesy plays David Collins here in the wide-awake style of an uncomfortable character in a comedy of manners. Laura makes cryptic promises of being forever united to David, to which he gives polite but nervous responses such as “That’s nice!” and “I’m sure we will!” David doesn’t seem to be asleep, suggesting that Laura’s otherworldly manner signifies nothing so familiar as a dream.
Laura notices David’s tears. She gives him a handkerchief to dry them. At the end of their conversation, she vanishes into thin air and David falls asleep. The handkerchief is still there, however, proving it was no ordinary dream.
At this stage of her existence, Laura seems to be divided into at least three entities. There is the woman who lives in the cottage, visits the great house, and talks to the other characters. There is a ghostly image David has seen flickering on the lawn. And there is a charred corpse in the morgue in Phoenix, Arizona. There is no assurance that these are the only three components of Laura, and no explanation of how they relate to each other. Does the speaking character know about the ghost? Does one control the other? If they operate independently, do they have the same goals? If they have different goals, might they come into conflict with each other? A scene like this one raises all of those questions, because we don’t know which Laura we’re dealing with.
It is also possible that she isn’t Laura at all. A couple of weeks ago, we thought it was Laura who compelled drunken artist Sam Evans to paint pictures of her naked and in flames. Yesterday, we learned that the spirit possessing Sam was actually the ghost of Josette Collins, and that she was doing it to oppose Laura’s plans. So maybe Josette has disguised herself as Laura in order to unsettle David and keep him from following his mother to his doom.
There is an unusual blooper just short of the 3 minute mark. From 2:51 to 2:57, Alexandra Moltke Isles has a fit of the giggles. This starts when Joan Bennett enters and flares up again as she walks past Mrs Isles. It’s true that Miss Bennett’s dress betrayed a good deal more of the outlines of the garments underneath it than one would expect. That may have had something to do with the laughing attack, but Mrs Isles was usually so professional that it is difficult to believe she wouldn’t have gotten that under control after dress rehearsal. Some of the actresses have talked about how Louis Edmonds would make remarks to them before shots that made it extremely difficult for them not to laugh on camera during serious scenes, perhaps he was the culprit here.
The giggle beginsThe giggle resumesThe giggle concealed
Strange and troubled boy David Collins has a painting hanging on the wall of his room. It depicts his mother, mysterious and long-absent Laura Collins, naked and surrounded by flames. Last night, a video insert of Laura’s head emanated from the painting and terrified David. Today, Laura finds him staring at the painting, listens to him tell about his frightening experience, and urges him to get rid of it. He says that he can’t do that. He believes that the painting carries a warning for him, and he must find out what that warning is.
Laura calls on the painter, drunken artist Sam Evans. Sam says that he hates the picture, and he can’t explain why he painted it. An unexplained force compelled him. In response to this, Laura turns her back on Sam and says “I see…” When Sam asks what she sees, Laura denies that she sees anything. She suggests that the unexplained force might have something to do with the several bottles of booze Sam drinks in the course of a typical day, a theory he refuses to countenance.
Sam shows Laura the painting he is currently working on. It is another version of the same theme. Laura is appalled by it, and irritated when Sam insists that she explain to him what is driving him to paint it. She tells him that he is solely responsible for the paintings that take shape under his brush, and threatens to stop him.
We’ve had many indications that there is something supernatural about Laura, but the only uncanny power she has exhibited so far is the ability to bother her son while he is sleeping. Staying in a cottage some distance from the house where David lives, she can stand at her window whispering his name and her voice echoes in his mind, causing him to writhe in bed and have a nightmare about her. That doesn’t seem to be the result she was going for. Sam’s paintings show the same scene David saw in the nightmare that her voice triggered, and she clearly regards them as an obstacle to her plans.
Laura’s threat implies that she is going to try to use whatever powers she has as a weapon. Sam is easily the least formidable person in town, so she is giving herself the best possible chance of success in this first effort.
This week we’ve had some hints that a different supernatural being, one separate from and opposed to Laura, is responsible for David’s nightmares and Sam’s paintings. We have another such indication today. Laura sneaks into David’s room while he is sleeping. The painting starts to glow when she enters. That’s been established as a sign of a ghostly presence in several episodes where the portrait of Josette Collins hanging in the long-abandoned Old House glows and then we see other evidence that Josette’s ghost is present. When Laura turns and looks at her own portrait, it stops glowing. The moment she turns away, it resumes glowing.
Sam’s daughter is Maggie Evans, The Nicest Girl in Town. Hardworking young fisherman Joe Haskell takes Maggie back to the Evans cottage after a night on the town. Maggie is worried that her father isn’t home. She’s even more worried that she might spend all the best years of her life alleviating the consequences of Sam’s drinking. Joe seems to have other ideas about Maggie’s future, and they have a nice kiss before going out to carry Sam home from the tavern.
While Maggie brews coffee, Sam lies down on the couch, lights a cigarette, and passes out. The cigarette falls onto a newspaper, and the newspaper starts to smolder. Laura’s face is superimposed on the screen as a cloud of smoke fills the set.
Sam and Maggie’s house is known as “the Evans cottage.” It’s natural to assume that the coffeepot Maggie is using when this fire starts is ten, fifteen feet away from Sam, tops. Then again, the other day David and well-meaning governess Vicki visited Sam, and he sent David to “the refrigerator” to have a moment alone with Vicki. David was gone for several minutes, and didn’t seem to have heard a bot of the conversation Sam and Vicki held at a fairly high volume. So who knows, maybe their kitchen is soundproofed or something.
So much of today’s episode is given over to recapping that I’m just going to make a few miscellaneous notes.
There is a video insert representing a street scene in the town of Collinsport that I don’t think we’ve seen before. It must be rush hour, we’ve never seen this many cars there before. Nor have we ever seen the town’s drug store.
Rush hour in Collinsport.
Well-meaning governess Vicki takes her charge, strange and troubled boy David Collins, into Collinsport. They want to see drunken artist Sam Evans. David wants to thank Sam for giving him a painting depicting his mother, the mysterious and long-absent Laura, naked and in flames (just what every nine year old boy wants!) Vicki wants to talk with Sam about the unseen forces that compelled Sam to create the painting and her to ask Sam him for it. Sam tells Vicki that the same force has driven him to paint another picture on the same hated theme.
Laura in flames #2, by Sam Evans
Back in the great house of Collinwood, a plainclothesman comes from the Maine state police. The authorities in Phoenix, Arizona are investigating a fire that destroyed the building in that city where Laura lived. The charred body of a woman Laura’s age, height, and build was found in her apartment. Since the only person associated with the building whose whereabouts were unaccounted for the night of the fire was Laura, the police initially recorded the remains as Laura’s. Laura was first seen in Collinsport the night of the fire, and has interacted with many old friends and acquaintances. So the body is now listed as unidentified, and the Maine police are assisting their Arizona counterparts in their attempt to find out who she was.
This officer has brought a few pieces of jewelry found in the apartment, hoping Laura can identify them. Laura isn’t in this episode, so he shows them to reclusive matriarch Liz instead. Liz identifies a locket as a family heirloom her brother, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger, gave to Laura when they were married. It contains a lock of David’s hair and a picture of a blond boy who does not appear to be David.
Who’s that kid?
Laura showed Vicki an identical locket in #139 and told her it contained a lock of David’s hair. Liz insists there is only one such locket. In view of all the signs that Laura is a supernatural being, we can tentatively assume that the burned body is indeed her corpse. As the body now living in the cottage at Collinwood is an uncanny duplicate of her original body, so the locket Vicki saw in 139 is a duplicate of the original locket.
When Laura showed Vicki the locket, she did not open it. Vicki has only Laura’s word that there is hair in it. Indeed, Laura asks Vicki to collect a lock of David’s hair, suggesting that the hair may not have been duplicated when the locket was. We’ve already had many hints that while Laura has come back from the dead, she hasn’t come all the way back- what we see when we look at her is only a fragment of a human being, maybe one of several fragments scattered throughout the world. The corpse in Phoenix is one fragment, the guest in the cottage is another, the ghost David sees flickering on the lawn is another, etc. Nor is her resurrection something that offers new life for anyone else. If she can’t bring even a lock of David’s hair back with her, we must assume that anyone who tried to join her on her path would simply be destroyed.
A few times in the early months of Dark Shadows, writers Art Wallace and Francis Swann found themselves in a corner. The story could move forward only if a character took a particular action, but they couldn’t come up with a reason to explain why any character would take that action. So they had the character do whatever it was simply because it was in the script, and hoped the actors or director or somebody would come up with sleight of hand to conceal their desperation.
Since well-meaning governess Vicki was on screen more than anyone else, she was the one most often required to behave without motivation. Sometimes, Alexandra Moltke Isles finds a way to make Vicki’s behavior intelligible in spite of the writers. The scenes in which Vicki tries to befriend her charge, strange and troubled boy David Collins, are Dark Shadows‘ premier example of good acting trumping bad writing, and there are smaller examples as well. But there are three times in the Wallace/ Swann era- in episodes 26, 38, and 83– when Vicki simply looks like an idiot. This “Dumb Vicki” will appear more and more often as the series goes on, and will eventually ruin the character and do grave damage to the show.
Some weeks ago, Wallace and Swann were succeeded as the principal writers of the show by Ron Sproat and Malcolm Marmorstein. Sproat was a cut below Wallace and Swann, and Marmorstein was far less talented even than Sproat. Today, we get a succession of Dumb Vicki moments resulting from basic incompetence on Marmorstein’s part.
Vicki is visiting her friend Maggie Evans, The Nicest Girl in Town. Maggie has shown her a canvas that her father, drunken artist Sam, was possessed by an unexplained force to paint. Sam hates the painting and is surprised as he watches it take shape under his brush, but is powerless to stop working on it. It depicts Laura Collins, mother of David. Laura is shown as a winged figure, nude and engulfed in flames.
Sam has had several scenes in which he was shown in closeup delivering speeches about his hatred for the painting and going through convulsions while spooky music plays on the soundtrack. He has also had scenes with Maggie and with Laura’s husband, high-born ne’er-do-well Roger Collins, in which he tries to explain what is going on with him and the painting. Yesterday, Maggie recapped much of this to Vicki, sharing the suspicion that Laura is somehow responsible for Sam’s compulsion to paint the picture. Since the show has also given us loads of hints that Laura is connected to the supernatural, this all adds up to a very heavy-handed way of telling the audience that Sam is possessed.
Once you can say that your characters are possessed by unseen spirits, you get a lot of extra latitude as to what constitutes motivation. Once they have shown us that he is possessed, all we need to know about Sam for his actions to make sense is that he has some kind of connection to Laura and that Laura has some connection to the supernatural. The results of the possession hold our interest as we compare them with other events in the story and look for a pattern we can fit them into.
As far as the supernatural beings responsible for the possession go, we don’t need much information at all about their motivation. Far less than for human characters. Most audiences have more or less definite ideas as to what human beings are and what makes them do the things they do. We’re more flexible as to what supernatural beings are, and are willing to spend a long time searching for coherence hidden in story elements that don’t seem to have a logical connection once we have seen that there are uncanny forces in operation.
To get the benefit of that audience participation, a writer does have to show that supernatural forces are at work. Today, Vicki seems to be possessed, but there is no scene showing us that this has happened. Vicki looks at the painting and says she wants it. Asked why, she says she doesn’t know. Nothing she says makes much sense, or much impression.
Three seconds of Vicki staring at the painting while we hear a theremin cue on the soundtrack would have sufficed to tell us that she was falling under a spell. Not only don’t we get that, Mrs Isles never gets a chance to show us what is happening to Vicki. When Vicki first looked at the painting, she was partially obscured, standing behind Maggie; examining it later, she has her back to the camera. During her dialogue with the loudly agitated Sam, only a few brief shots focus on her. Sam gives Vicki the painting. When Maggie says she wonders how Laura will react when Vicki brings the painting into the house, Vicki mumbles that she doesn’t know.
Had we seen Vicki falling under the spell, the result could have been a powerful moment. As a supernatural storyline goes on, the mysterious forces behind it spread their influence from one character to another. The first moment in this one when we could see that sort of contagion at work is when the powers that have been controlling Sam take hold of Vicki. To hide that moment from us is to hide the whole development of the narrative arc.
Moreover, that this particular development takes place on this set among these characters is quite significant. When Vicki and Maggie first met, Maggie told her that she was a jerk for taking a job at the great house of Collinwood. She told Vicki that Collinwood was a source of trouble for the town of Collinsport. As the weeks went on, Maggie and other Collinsport natives made it clear that a big part of that trouble comes from the ghosts and ghoulies that are housed in Collinwood and that threaten to break out and take over the town. This will indeed become the major theme of the show in the years ahead.
Now Vicki has lived in Collinwood for over six months, and the only ghosts she has seen are the friendly, protective spirits of Josette Collins and beloved local man Bill Malloy. The first time a supernatural being does something frightening to Vicki is in the town of Collinsport, in Maggie’s own house.
Indeed, the Phoenix storyline is the only one in the whole series to invert the usual pattern of Collinwood as hell-mouth and Collinsport as a beleaguered outpost of normality. There are other storylines where evil powers came from far away, from across the sea or from another dimension, and settled in Collinwood before spreading out to threaten Collinsport, but in this story the source of the disturbance is Laura. While she may tell David in episode 140 that she comes from one of the realms described in the legends of the Holy Grail, that origin applies only to her uncanny side. When Laura first came to town, she had told Maggie that she was originally from Collinsport, and in episode 130, Laura’s estranged husband Roger, and Roger’s sister, reclusive matriarch Liz, had mentioned that Laura’s family had moved away from town.
The episode also leaves us on our own trying to figure out what Vicki is thinking. Regular viewers might take some time during the commercial break to puzzle it out, put it in the context of what we’ve seen previously, and wonder if Vicki is in a stupor because she too is possessed. That might help us to get through the rest of the episode, but if we are to feel a live connection to the character we have to understand what she is feeling while we are watching her. A theory we come up with after the fact is no substitute for empathy we experience during the scene. And of course people tuning in to Dark Shadows for the first time will simply think that Vicki is some kind of idiot.
Many fans of Dark Shadows, especially those who haven’t seen the first 42 weeks of the show or who didn’t see them until later episodes had given them fixed impressions, blame Alexandra Moltke Isles’ acting for Dumb Vicki. But today’s scene in the Evans cottage shows how deeply unfair that is. If an actor doesn’t have lines to deliver, she can’t use her voice to create a character. If the camera isn’t pointed at her, her body language is no use. And if the director is telling her to play the scene quietly while the others are going over the top, she’s likely to fade into the background. Without even a musical sting on the soundtrack to support her, there is nothing Mrs Isles could have done to communicate to the audience what Vicki is going through in this scene.
It is easy for me to denounce Malcolm Marmorstein, since his scripts are so often so bad. I am reluctant to place a share of the blame on director John Sedwick, since I am always impressed with Sedwick’s visual style and usually with his deployment of actors. But I can’t believe anyone would have stopped him pointing a camera at Mrs Isles at the appropriate moment, giving her a chance to play her part.
Back at the great house of Collinwood, David and Laura are sitting by the fire. David asks his mother about her old boyfriends. He wants to know if she ever dated dashing action hero Burke Devlin. She admits that she did. When David lets on that he wishes Burke, rather than Roger, were his father, Laura squirms. We’ve had a number of indications that Burke might in fact be David’s biological father, and Laura is alarmed that David is raising the topic.
The front door opens, and David and Laura are glad to see their friend Vicki. They are intrigued by the package Vicki is carrying. David begs to see what’s inside. Laura, in a light and cheerful voice, tells him that if Vicki wanted him to see it, she would have shown it to them. He continues to beg. Vicki says “All right!,” and unveils it. When we were watching the episode, Mrs Acilius exclaimed “All right!?,” appalled at Vicki’s nonsensical decision to yield to David’s pleas despite the cover Laura was giving her. Again, the idea that Vicki’s weird decisions and vague, distracted manner might be symptoms of possession was somewhere in our minds, but since nothing had been shown to give direct support to that idea our emotional reaction suited a Dumb Vicki moment.
As Maggie had suggested she might be, Laura is horrified to see herself depicted in this fiery image. David is thrilled- he had been plagued by a recurring nightmare, one he had described in detail to the deeply concerned Vicki, in which his mother stood in a sea of flames and beckoned him to join her. He asks how Sam knew about his dream- did he have the same dream? Vicki mumbles that he didn’t, that he didn’t know anything about the dream or even why he was painting the picture. The audience may have wondered why Vicki didn’t remember the dream until now- the explanation that fits best with the story is that she has been possessed by the same spirit that possessed Sam, but with so little attention given to Vicki as she was reacting to the painting some very insightful critics have taken it as another Dumb Vicki moment.
David points to a white space in the painting, one the shape of his own head, and asks what goes there. Vicki mumbles that she doesn’t know, and that Sam himself didn’t know. David is delighted with the painting and wants to hang it in his room. He asks Vicki to give it to him. Vicki tells him that his mother will have to rule on that question. Laura hates the painting and tries to talk David out of hanging it, but he is nothing deterred. She finally caves in.
While David goes upstairs with the painting, Laura asks Vicki what she was thinking bringing such a terrible thing into the house. Vicki says she doesn’t know- something just came over her. That goes to show that the writer wanted us to think that Vicki was possessed, which in turn makes it all the more exasperating that he didn’t let us in on it at the appropriate time. The fact that we know the writer wants us to have a reaction doesn’t mean that we actually have it. Confusion pushes people away from a story, and merely intellectual explanations offered after the fact don’t draw us back in.
Vicki, seeming to regain some of her brainpower, goes to David’s room and tries to talk him out of keeping the painting. He dismisses her concerns immediately, without even changing his delighted manner, and hangs it on his wall. Looking at it, Vicki admits that it looks like it belongs there.
Laura enters, and tells David she has changed her mind. She thinks it would be bad for him to have such an image on display, and asks him to get rid of the painting. David responds by threatening never to speak to her again. Laura has just been reunited with David after years of separation, and his initial reaction to her return was confused and traumatic. So it is understandable that she capitulates to this extortion.
It is more surprising that Vicki responds by turning away and wringing her hands after Laura leaves. Usually Vicki scolds David after he is nasty to people, and she has been on a particular mission to break down the barriers between him and his mother. If it were clear that Vicki was under the influence of a spirit and was not herself, this uncharacteristically diffident response might have carried a dramatic punch, at least for regular viewers. As it is, it slides past as yet another Dumb Vicki moment.
Back in the Evans cottage, Sam comes back from his usual night of drinking at the local tavern. Maggie is infinitely weary of her father’s alcoholism, but does smile to hear him reciting poetry and talking about a seascape he is planning to paint. At least he’s happy. Sam goes to his easel to start that seascape, only to recoil as he realizes that he is in fact painting another version of the picture of Laura in flames.
David is asleep in his room. The painting starts to glow. Then Laura’s painted likeness is replaced with a video insert of her face. The insert grows and grows, and David screams for it to stay away.
Maggie’s suspicion that Laura is behind the portrait fits with the many signs the show has given us of Laura’s uncanny nature. Laura’s reaction when Vicki brings the painting home, though, shows us that what has been happening to Sam does not serve Laura’s interests, any more than David’s nightmare did.
I think there are three possible explanations for the origin of the compulsion Sam had to paint the picture, the compulsion Vicki had to claim it, and David’s nocturnal disturbances. It could be that by exposing David time and again to the image of him following her into flames, Laura is gradually wearing down David’s resistance to a horrible idea that will lead to his destruction. In support of this interpretation, we remember the first night Laura was at Collinwood. She was calling David’s name in a quiet voice at the window of her cottage, far from the great house. Yet the sound of her voice penetrated David’s mind as he slept. He writhed on his bed, and went into the nightmare. Laura’s objection to the painting militates against this explanation.
When we were watching the episode, Mrs Acilius suggested a second reading. There might be a lot to Laura. Maybe in addition to the physical presence in the house that wants David to come away with her, there is also a ghostly presence that wants to warn him and everyone else of the danger that implies. That interpretation would fit with David’s sighting, the night Laura first came to the house, of a flickering image on the lawn that looked like Laura. David longed for that Laura to come to him, but reacted with terror when he saw the fleshly Laura in the drawing room. Perhaps there are two of her, and one is trying to protect David from the other. It is also possible that the two Lauras are not aware of each other, or even fully aware of themselves. So this interpretation is easier to reconcile with apparently contradictory evidence.
Vicki’s involvement suggests a third possibility. The ghost of Josette Collins appeared to her and comforted her in episode 126, and an eerie glow had emanated from the portrait of Josette when David left Laura alone in the Old House yesterday. Laura was alarmed to hear that David was interested in the ghosts of Collinwood, had not wanted to go to the Old House, and lies to David when he asks if he saw any sign of Josette’s presence. Perhaps Josette is intervening to thwart Laura’s plans, and it is her power that is benumbing Vicki today. Josette’s previous interventions have been intermittent and subtle, suggesting that it is difficult for her to reach the world of the living. So if she is preparing for a showdown with Laura, we might it expect it to take her some time to recruit her strength.
Again, this is the kind of search for patterns that an audience will gladly go into once you’ve let them know that there are supernatural forces at work in your story. Since Josette has been in the background of the show from week one, has appeared repeatedly, has a set devoted to her in the Old House, and has established connections with both Vicki and David, we might expect her to be the first of the uncanny presences we think of when we enter a supernatural storyline. That she is a tutelary spirit presiding over Collinwood brings it into sharp focus that the estate is under assault from a supernatural force emanating from the town of Collinsport. Today’s failure with Vicki kicks Josette’s ghost out of the spotlight, and that is one of the major faults with the episode.
Dark Shadows Commentary 