vicki and the clock – Dark Shadows Commentary

Episode 627: Her name is Victoria. I cannot take care of her.

Dan Curtis often said that the idea for Dark Shadows came to him in a dream about a girl with long black hair taking a journey by train. When he persuaded ABC-TV to let him make a pilot for a series, the most difficult part of the casting process was finding the actress who would embody that girl, whose name came to be Victoria Winters. Alexandra Isles, then still known as Alexandra Moltke, finally emerged as the one person who combined the right physical appearance with a mysterious, otherworldly quality that suggests a figure from a dream.

From Episode 1: The girl on the train. Reflected in the window behind her is Burke Devlin, her original love interest.

Mrs Isles’ casting had an immediate effect on the underlying story in Art Wallace’s original series bible, Shadows on the Wall. Wallace projected a puzzle about Vicki’s origins that would be resolved when it was revealed that she was the child of an extramarital liaison between Paul Stoddard, the long-missing husband of matriarch Elizabeth Collins Stoddard, and some unknown woman. Liz’ guilty feelings about Paul would explain her concern for Vicki and her decision to bring her to the great house of Collinwood as governess for her nephew, strange and troubled boy David Collins. Since Vicki would not be a blood relative of the Collins family, it would also leave an option for Vicki to develop a romance with David’s father, Liz’ brother Roger.

From Episode 1: The front doors of Collinwood open for the first time. Liz and Vicki come face to face, and each sees her own reflection in the other.

Wallace did include a note saying that if it was more story-productive, it could turn out that Liz was Vicki’s mother. Liz was played by Joan Bennett, whom Mrs Isles strongly resembled. When Bennett first saw Mrs Isles, she famously mistook her for her own daughter. From the first episode on, the show heavily signaled that Vicki was Liz’ daughter by a man other than Paul. Liz soon treats Vicki so much like a daughter that the only events that would follow from confirming the relationship would be to make some changes to Liz’ will. Since the business aspects of the characters’ lives ceased to generate action after the first few months, that would have been a severe anti-climax. So they wound up dropping the question altogether.

For the first 39 weeks of Dark Shadows, Vicki was its main protagonist. Not many of the storylines worked in those days; the only scenes that reliably clicked were those between Vicki and David. Even though their dialogue was as dreary as anything else in those early scripts, Mrs Isles and David Henesy managed to use their physical movements and the spaces they occupied to tell the story of a young woman persuading a boy to trust her. That version of the show ended with #191, when David ran from the mother who was trying to lure him to his death and flung himself into Vicki’s arms. That completed their story, and left neither character with a clear path forward.

From Episode 191: David turns from his mother and death, embracing Vicki and life.

After #191, the show was on course for the introduction of vampire Barnabas Collins. Vicki kept trying to get close to Barnabas; she even invited herself to spend the night at his house in #285 and #286. But he wouldn’t bite her, and she couldn’t get a foothold in the A-story otherwise. There was an odd meta-fictional side to Vicki in this phase. In-universe, she didn’t know that Barnabas was a vampire, and she certainly didn’t know that she was a character on a soap opera that was coming to be all about him. But her behavior made sense only if she did know those things and was making an effort to reestablish herself as a central figure in the action. I don’t know whether Mrs Isles or any other particular person was lobbying the writers to present her that way, or if it was a response to fan mail. It happened so often and led to so little that it did seem to be coming from somewhere outside the usual creative process behind the scripts.

In November 1967, Vicki came unstuck in time and found herself in the year 1795. She took the audience with her, and for several months the show was a costume drama set in the late eighteenth century. On balance, the result was a triumph. By the time Vicki and the show came back to contemporary dress in March 1968, Dark Shadows had become a real hit, and Barnabas had become one of the major pop culture phenomena of the 1960s. But Vicki did not benefit from that success. When the costume drama insert started, fans had every reason to expect it would revive her character. Barnabas spent most of his time in 1967 scrambling to impersonate a native of the twentieth century; Jonathan Frid would always say that it was in that scramble that he found Barnabas, and that he thought of him first and foremost as a liar. When Vicki turns up in Barnabas’ original period, we look forward to seeing her doing what he did, and trying to pass as his little sister’s governess. Remembering how well Mrs Isles did during the 39 weeks she carried the show on her shoulders, we look forward to her showing us what Vicki can do when she has to think fast.

But that was not to be. Instead, Curtis and his staff chose to write Vicki as an intolerable moron. She introduced herself to every new person by telling them that they are being played by actors who had other parts in the first 73 weeks of the show. Tedious as that habit was, it was compounded when she made one inexplicably idiotic decision after another as she failed utterly to adapt to her new surroundings. That would have been a difficult role to make appealing even if she had shared her screen time with a partner as capable as David Henesy. It became utterly impossible when Vicki made the least intelligible move of all and fell in love with her jailer/ lawyer/ boyfriend/ accomplice Peter Bradford, played by the abusive and shouty Roger Davis. Marooned in scene after scene with Mr Davis, Mrs Isles withered and Vicki became a cipher. By the time the court sentenced Vicki to be put to death for her many crimes, half the audience was on their side.

Shortly after Vicki returned to the 1960s, Barnabas finally bit her. Each of Barnabas’ victims reacted to his bite differently; Vicki’s reaction was perhaps the most unexpected, and certainly the funniest. She was just sort of chill about the whole thing. She showed up when Barnabas summoned her and didn’t object when he told he her she would become his vampire bride for all eternity, but first she had some errands to run, and she was irritated with him when he tried to get her to skip them. When a doctor saw the bite marks on her neck, she did not react with the fear or defensiveness of other victims, but innocently asked “Why are they bad?” She seemed to regard them as just another hickey, the result of Barnabas’ peculiar make-out technique.

Unfortunately, Peter came back to life and ruined Vicki’s relationship with Barnabas. He jumped out in the road in front of her car while she was driving off with Barnabas, causing her to crash. Vicki and Barnabas were taken to the hospital. There, one of the doctors turned out to be a mad scientist who cured Barnabas of vampirism. Once the cure took hold, Vicki forgot all about her time as Barnabas’ victim, and she sunk into a relationship with the irredeemably repellent Peter. Every time we’ve seen her in recent months, she has dragged Peter back to our attention. Mrs Isles has found ways to liven up Vicki’s scenes; she always projected a forceful personality when she was standing near the clock in the foyer of the great house of Collinwood, and she has even managed to coax Roger Davis into playing a couple of scenes competently. Mr Davis never had quite as much to offer as did the clock, but when Mrs Isles could raise her voice and fix him with a steely stare it does seem to have come back to him that he had had a lot of acting lessons and could deliver dialogue interestingly.

Today is Mrs Isles’ last day on the job. We open with a reprise of the end of yesterday’s episode, when Vicki finds the corpse of a strangled woman in the closet in Peter’s room. Peter assures her he doesn’t know how the corpse got there. She tells him they have to call the police. He says he needs time to figure out what happened before they can involve the police; she points out that delaying will only make him look guiltier in their eyes. He tells her that she should leave so that her name won’t be connected with the case; she tells him it is too late for that. We can see why Vicki has faded- she is thinking like a rational person from our world, not like anyone you would meet in Soap Opera Land.

Vicki goes home to Collinwood and tells permanent houseguest Julia Hoffman that Peter is in jail, suspected of murder. She explains that the dead person is a woman Peter knew only as Eve. Julia reacts with shock to the name; Vicki asks if she knew Eve. Julia says of course not, and Vicki tells her she will go wake Roger and ask him to help arrange bail for Peter. She goes into the door leading to the bedrooms, never to be seen again.

In her final appearance, Vicki talks with Julia, her successor as the principal audience-identification character.

Viewers who have been with the show from the beginning will see a loop closing in the idea of Vicki going to Roger’s bedroom while he sleeps. In #4, Roger had tried to let himself into Vicki’s bedroom at night, only to be caught with his hand on the doorknob by Liz. In response to Liz’ threats, Roger told her not to bother him about his “morals,” a choice of words that made it clear that his intentions with regard to Vicki were of a sexual nature. Later in the episode, he and Vicki bantered flirtatiously after he offered her a snifter of brandy; for the first and last time, Vicki sounded like what she was supposed to have been, a street kid from NYC. Roger has long since been stripped of all his villainous qualities; in #585, he and Vicki even shared a scene in her bedroom while she was in her nightgown, and it was all perfectly innocent. In that scene, we not only saw that the old menacing Roger was gone forever, but that Vicki was also reduced to such a humdrum status that a man can enter her bedroom at night without raising an eyebrow. Now that Julia sees nothing out of the ordinary in Vicki dropping in on Roger while he sleeps, that humdrum status is reinforced.

When Vicki first arrived in the village of Collinsport in #1, she met her original love interest, dashing action hero Burke Devlin. Burke told her she had found her way to “the beginning and the end of the world.” We are reminded of the beginning of the world since we know that the man who killed Eve was named Adam. This Adam and Eve are no one’s parents; they share nothing but hostility and death. The episode ends with the wicked Angelique trying to summon up the Devil, a symbol of the end of the world. She herself disappears, apparently destroyed. Burke’s description is finally fulfilled.

The part of Vicki will be recast twice in the months ahead, but those actresses never had a chance to breathe any life into her. The character had lost any reason to be on the show long before Mrs Isles’ departure. In #87, David had trapped Vicki and left her to die; wondering where she was, Roger said, “She came to us from nowhere, and now it seems she has disappeared into nowhere.” And so, at last, it has come to be. The long-haired girl from Dan Curtis’ dream, the image that started it all, has vanished, never to be seen again.

Episode 579: One tick of the clock

In the first 38 weeks of Dark Shadows, the best scenes were those between well-meaning governess Vicki and her charge, strange and troubled boy David. The scenes were not especially well-written- at one point, Vicki reads aloud from a textbook describing the geography of the state of Maine- but Alexandra Moltke Isles and David Henesy always found a way to use nonverbal cues to communicate to the audience exactly how matters stood in their characters’ relationship to each other.

Mrs Isles and Mr Henesy haven’t had a two-scene in donkey’s years, and so she has had to find another partner to play off. In recent months, her finest moments have come when she was standing next to the elaborately decorated clock in the foyer of the great house of Collinwood. Today, she stands there while confronting her fiancé, an unpleasant man named Peter who prefers to be called Jeff. She does a great job, and in response Roger Davis, whose performance as Peter/ Jeff was notably insipid in the first half of the episode, comes to life and is himself compelling to watch.

Mrs Isles standing next to her co-star. Also pictured: Roger Davis.

It’s been weeks since Peter/ Jeff has spent time with Vicki, and he has been extremely evasive when she asks him what is keeping him so busy. He has turned down a job offer that would have made it possible for them to start life together on a sound financial footing, again without an explanation. When he asks her simply to accept that he has a good reason, she explodes with “You put everything on that basis, and it’s just not fair!” They go into the drawing room and after he keeps dodging her questions she gives him his ring back.

Peter/ Jeff’s problem is that he is committed to spend all his time helping mad scientist Julia and recovering vampire Barnabas with an experiment meant to bring a Frankenstein’s monster to life, a project he doesn’t feel he can tell Vicki about. Earlier in the episode, he was in the lab in Barnabas’ basement and sneaked a peek at Julia’s notebook. Julia was angry when she caught him with her property. This appears to be the same little red notebook Julia hid from Barnabas in the autumn of 1967, at one point stashing it inside the clock that has such a salutary effect on Vicki.

Later, Vicki dropped by Barnabas’ house. Peter/ Jeff sneaked upstairs to eavesdrop on Vicki’s conversation with Julia. He stands inside the cellar door, which has a barred window. We’ve seen Barnabas’ front parlor through these bars several times, and it always catches my attention. This time, the shot is composed very much in the style of a panel from an old EC horror comic book, a style the show has borrowed in some of its most effective moments.

Peter/ Jeff eavesdrops on Vicki and Julia.

Episode 532/533: Your dream will end with me

Well-meaning governess Vicki has had a nightmare. She knows that it is no ordinary dream, but the penultimate stage in “The Dream Curse,” a spell cast by the wicked witch known variously as Angelique and Cassandra. She will feel a compulsion to tell the dream to old world gentleman Barnabas. If she gives in to this compulsion, he will have the same dream, and it is supposed to bring disaster to him. She does not know, but he does, that this disaster is to be his reversion to vampirism, a condition with which he was afflicted for 172 years.

Barnabas calls on Angelique/ Cassandra at the great house of Collinwood, where she lives as the wife of his distant cousin Roger. Barnabas says he will surrender to Angelique/ Cassandra and become her faithful lover if she will relieve Vicki of the suffering that the dream brings. He tells her that Vicki is a person of great strength, that she has deep affection for him, and that she will hold out for a very long time rather than endanger him. Angelique/ Cassandra says nothing, but after he leaves she thinks his offer over with great excitement.

Vicki comes home to the great house with her friend Maggie. No one is downstairs when they arrive; Maggie leads Vicki through the front door, approaches the partly open doors to the drawing room, and opens them the rest of the way.

This will intrigue longtime viewers. First, because the camera is looking out of the drawing room into the foyer when Maggie comes toward the lens, takes hold of the doors, and opens them, a visual composition we have never seen before. Second, because opening and closing those doors has always been a sign that a person had authority in the house, and while Maggie is very much in charge of the rattled Vicki at this moment, she has never had any connection to Collinwood.

Maggie meets the suave Nicholas, who flatters her extravagantly and offers her a ride to the hospital where she will visit her injured fiancé Joe. Nicholas is a warlock, and he has been very severe with his subordinate Angelique/ Cassandra for her ability to feel love for Barnabas. He is fun to watch when he is casting spells or deceiving people or giving bizarre motivational speeches to Angelique/ Cassandra, but his single-minded devotion to evil for its own sake is a shallow foundation for a regular character. When we see his obvious attraction to Maggie putting the lie to his scornful denunciations of Angelique/ Cassandra’s mushy feelings for Barnabas, we might wonder if he will develop another side to his personality, one which will make it possible for him to stay on the show for the long term.

After Nicholas returns from taking Maggie to the hospital, he meets Angelique/ Cassandra in the foyer. He asks her if Vicki has told Barnabas the dream yet. She says that she has not, and that it may be quite some time before she does. But she also tells him that that may not matter. She looks at Barnabas’ portrait and, in a blissful tone, tells Nicholas that she has won and the Dream Curse need not continue. When she describes Barnabas’ offer, Nicholas is appalled. He says that he brought her back to the world of the living to take revenge, not to indulge in love. She acquiesces.

Vicki comes downstairs and confronts Angelique/ Cassandra. She tells her that she will never go to Barnabas, no matter how much the dream makes her suffer. While Vicki tells her off, Angelique/ Cassandra’s back is against the large clock that stands on the floor of the foyer.

Vicki has had it with Angelique/ Cassandra.

Vicki was the main character on Dark Shadows for its first year, when the only story on the show that really worked was her difficult relationship with her charge, strange and troubled boy David. That story was resolved when David’s mother, undead fire witch Laura, vanished in a cloud of smoke in #191, and the show hasn’t known what to do with Vicki since. The writers often seem to have given up on her, and occasionally Alexandra Moltke Isles shows signs of withdrawing from the character. But she gives her all in this scene.

I’ve noticed that Mrs Isles tends to be at her most vigorous when she is in the foyer near the clock. Maybe she was inspired by Vicki’s complex relationship with time- in #85 and #126, she was the first character to interact with ghosts, and from #365 to #461 she was displaced to the late 1790s. She was therefore the key figure in breaking down the barriers between past and present in the narrative universe of Dark Shadows. Moreover, her old role as the audience’s point of view long put her at the beginning of every episode with a voiceover beginning “My name is Victoria Winters,” and the cast credits for every episode she is in still end with “and Alexandra Moltke as Victoria Winters.” Her position as the last in the long, long line of victims of the Dream Curse is another example of her function as an indicator that a narrative arc is approaching its climax. So maybe she could sympathize with the clock.

Episode 63: The world around it

Each episode of Dark Shadows begins with a voiceover. In this phase of the show, the voiceovers are all narrated by Alexandra Moltke Isles in character as Victoria Winters, well-meaning governess, and are brief passages of almost purely decorative prose, meant only to set a mood and to vanish from the audience’s memory as soon as the action starts. Art Wallace and Francis Swann, the writers credited for the first 97 episodes, were old pros who had been turning out scripts for decades, and were good at staying out of their own way. That’s why I haven’t yet said anything about any of the opening voiceovers- when Wallace or Swann set out to write something forgettable, they succeeded. By the time I started writing, I had no recollection of them whatever.

Today’s opening voiceover is unusually substantive, so much so that it threatens to leave a trace in the audience’s mind:

My name is Victoria Winters. Once again it is quiet in Collinwood. There is no sound but the ticking of the great clock in the entrance hall. And the lonely footsteps of a woman who hasn’t left its grounds in eighteen years. A woman whose life is limited to musty corridors and the endless beat of a grandfather clock. A beat that seems to ignore the vitality of the world around it.

Vicki names herself, names the estate where she lives, talks about how quiet it is, mentions the clock, tells the audience that the lady of the house is a recluse who hasn’t left home in eighteen years, complains about the air quality in the house, brings the clock up again, and assures us that interesting things are happening everywhere except here. It leaves us wondering why Vicki is so hung up on the clock, why she doesn’t run the vacuum cleaner herself, and why, if the entire world surrounding Collinwood is chock full of vitality, they don’t turn the camera in some other direction.

That’s the sort of thing we’re going to get from Wallace and Swann’s immediate successors, Ron Sproat and Malcolm Marmorstein. In writing their opening voiceovers, Sproat and Marmorstein fell between two stools. They didn’t write brief, deliberately forgettable passages as Wallace and Swann had done; nor did they integrate the opening voiceovers into the action of the show, as would happen in later years when the story is moving very fast and the episodes start with detailed recaps of events so far. Instead, Sproat and Marmorstein saw the voiceovers as vehicles for long passages of flowery, over-developed imagery. Those are certainly no more effective at setting a mood than were Wallace and Swann’s brief remarks, but they do both try the patience of the audience and linger as distractions. That’s one of the things that prejudices viewers against the character of Vicki- since so many episodes from the Sproat/ Marmorstein era start with Vicki rambling on about the weather or making vague remarks about “one small boy” or whatever, the first impression she leaves on viewers who start watching with episodes from that period is that of a prattling fool.

While Wallace and Swann are the only writers whose names have appeared in the credits thus far, it is very possible that others not credited contributed additional bits. I may be wrong, but my nose catches a whiff of Marmorstein in these six strange, distracting sentences. The description of the clock while we’re looking at it, the specified number of years since reclusive matriarch Liz has left the estate, the evocation of the “musty corridors,” the yearning glance at the eventful world outside, are all typical of Marmorstein’s attempts to turn the voiceovers into freestanding dramatic monologues, but without identifiable characters or plot development.

Today’s episode doesn’t shed much light on Vicki’s relationship to the clock or on the standards of cleanliness in the great house of Collinwood. Instead, it’s a kaleidoscope episode, in which each change of scene varies the combination of characters who interact on each set. The action plays out on two sets this time, the foyer/ drawing room representing the downstairs of the great house, and the Blue Whale tavern, representing the low and bustling life of the village. Because the sets typify the “musty corridors” inside the house and the “vitality of the world around it,” the episode is also a diptych of sorts- not Art Wallace’s usual diptych contrasting two pairs of people, but a diptych contrasting two places and the attitudes those places inspire in the people who spend time in them.

The five pieces tumbling about in today’s kaleidoscope are reclusive matriarch Liz, tightly-wound handyman Matthew, flighty heiress Carolyn, hardworking young fisherman Joe, and Maggie, the nicest girl in town. The regular bartender at the Blue Whale gets a fair bit of screen time as well. In the first 63 episodes, he’s answered to names including “Joe,” Andy,” “Mike,” and “Punchy.” Today, Joe the fisherman calls the bartender “Punchy,” a name he called him most recently in episode 56, the same episode where drunken artist Sam calls him “Mike.” Maybe we’re supposed to think that the young men know the bartender as “Punchy,” the older men as “Mike.” Eventually the show settles on the name “Bob” for him, perhaps because the performer’s name was Bob O’Connell. In one episode (#319,) Sam calls him “Ba-ba-roony,” giving rise to the idea that his name is Bob Rooney.

Liz appears only at Collinwood, of course; Joe and the bartender appear only in the bar. The others migrate back and forth between the two sets. We first see Carolyn with Joe in the bar, talking about what a flop their date has been and how pointless their whole relationship is. Maggie interrupts this thrilling conversation, looking for her father, Sam the drunken artist. After puzzling Carolyn and Joe with a number of cryptic remarks, Maggie gives up looking for her father and goes to Collinwood to look for high-born ne’er-do-well Roger. Roger isn’t home, so she winds up talking to Liz. This is the 63rd episode, and it’s the first time we’ve seen these two major characters together.

We first see Matthew in Collinwood, telling Liz how much he wants to help her. He then goes to the bar, where Carolyn and Joe see him. Matthew is looking for dashing action hero Burke Devlin, whom he hates. He implies to Carolyn and Joe that Burke is to blame for the death of beloved local man Bill Malloy. Joe doesn’t like Burke any more than Matthew does. The instant he hears Matthew’s idea, he is all in on it. Carolyn resists the suggestion.

Carolyn goes home to Collinwood. Maggie has explained to Liz that Burke has been saying terrible things about her father, that she can’t find her father to ask him about Burke’s allegations, and that Roger might know something about them. Liz urges Maggie to believe in her father, and to regard Burke as a dangerous, unscrupulous man capable of many dark deeds. Hearing the last part of this, Carolyn asks her mother if she believes that Burke is capable of murder. Yes, Liz says, she does believe that he is capable of that.