Dark Shadows wasn't Beverly Hope Atkinson's strangest credit

If you were an actor working in New York City during the Nixon years -- and had any kind of success -- you found yourself working on some weird projects. Mitchell Ryan crossed swords onstage with Christoper Walken in the Greek classic "Iphigenia At Aulis." Lara Parker was in "Hi, Mom!," one of Brian DePalma's earliest (and still strangest) movies, alongside a very young Robert DeNiro. And both Thayer David and Christopher Pennock found themselves acting in the very first Merchant Ivory Production, "Savages." It was a wild time.

Beverly Hope Atkinson's career was no less weird. Atkinson was the first person of color to appear on DARK SHADOWS with dialogue, granting her an outsized presence in our memories. Ask a random fan and they'll probably remember her, perhaps even believing that she was in more than that one episode broadcast Aug. 21, 1968. (She was credited only as "nurse.") A year would go by before another person of color (Henry Judd Baker) appeared on screen in DARK SHADOWS. Unlike Atkinson, though, Baker lingered in Collinsport for a few episodes ... but was given no dialogue. That's just what television looked like in those days: blindly white.

Atkinson died in December, 2001, of cancer. Her obituary in the 2001-2002 edition of Theater World reveals that she was a student of Lee Strasberg and a member of the Actors Studio, Cafe LaMama in New York, and Theater West on Los Angeles, and that her career included international tours of "Skin of Our Teeth" and "Tom Paine" in London. Her stage credits also include "A Midsummer Night's Dream," "Lysistrata" and "The Blacks" at Seattle Repertory Theatre.

Wikipedia paints a much more distressing, though hardly surprising, portrait of her career. Before her stage work is even mentioned, the anonymous author explains that Atkinson was best known for "playing women down-on-their-luck or caught up in drug addiction." Acting is hard work. Acting for women is even harder, and if you're going to try to do all of those things while also being black? You'd better goddamn love the job because it's rarely ever going to love you back.

Things are better today ... but better does not automatically equal "good." I feel like that needs to be said, if for no other reason than to preemptively fend off Facebook comments from people who believe institutional racism is a thing of the past.

Beverly Hope Atkinson and Joseph Kaufmann in HEAVY TRAFFIC, 1973.

Which brings me to Atkinson's most memorable screen credit: "Carole" in Ralph Bakshi's 1973 feature film HEAVY TRAFFIC. The film combines live action and animation to Bakshi's usual provocative effect, one that initially earned the film an X rating upon release. The story follows a young cartoonist who finds inspiration in the seedy cast of characters surrounding him in pre-Giuliani New York. I don't know that I'm equipped to comment on Bakshi's animation, but ... it's something, all right. You can watch a clip below if you're feeling daring. Ralph Bakshi is one of those filmmakers I'd describe as "important," but that doesn't make his work any less icky.

AFTER SHADOWS: Mitchell Ryan as AGAMEMNON

 
Mitchell Ryan taped his last episode of DARK SHADOWS on May 25, 1967. His first job out of the gates was a spot on the short-lived television series CORONET BLUE, a spin-off of the primetime/daytime series THE NURSES. Ryan appeared in the fifth episode, titled “Faces,” which aired July 10, 1967. I’m sure it was a perfectly fine program, but his next gig is a lot more interesting.

Ryan starred as “Agamemnon” in IPHIGENIA AT AULIS, which opened Nov. 21 that year at the Circle in the Square theater in New York City. IPHIGENIA AT AULIS was written by Euripides in 414 B.C. The story is profoundly disturbing: Agamemnon must decide whether or not to sacrifice his daughter to the gods as a preamble to setting his troops in battle against Troy. It sounds like an episode of BLACK MIRROR.



By all accounts, Ryan sold the conflict well and portrayed Agamemnon as a conflicted, flawed leader: “Mitchell Ryan's Agamemnon, part politician, part hero, part father, provided a subtly judged performance of a man of patchy conscience who wants to do the right thing, but hasn't truly got the moral equipment to know what the right thing is,” wrote Clive Barnes in the New York Times that year.

The 1967 production was pretty successful, running until the following year for a total of 232 performances. Starring opposite Ryan was Christopher Walken as “Achilles” and Irene Papas as “Clytemenstra.”

Via: The Michαel Cacoyannis Foundation

AFTER SHADOWS: Jonathan Frid in SEIZURE, 1974

UPDATE: I asked Oliver Stone about his feelings on the film, 
and got the following answer ...

Well, SEIZURE is not my best film, clearly. But it was an amazing experience to make. I learned a lot and suffered a lot.
— Oliver Stone (@TheOliverStone) November 12, 2013

 By WALLACE McBRIDE

There are no heroes in SEIZURE, the 1974 directorial debut of Oliver Stone. The film has great fun in pretending that leading man Jonathan Frid is the film’s protagonist, which he might be, if only by default. But it’s an ugly, nihilistic film about humanity’s many shades of cowardice. Had it been a better film, its dense, cryptic rhythms might have attracted the kinds of conspiracy theorists that so love Stanley Kubrick’s THE SHINING. As it stands, the film is just a minor curiosity.

Frid plays successful novelist Edmund Blackstone, who is entertaining a motley group of friends at his lake house for a weekend. Without exception, these are all horrible human beings, with Frid presented as a quiet everyman. Haunted by a recurring nightmare, Blackstone puts on a brave face for his wife and child and does his best to entertain this group of A-holes. The festivities come to a halt when a trio of violent party crashers arrives on the scene: The Spider, The Jackal and The Queen of Evil. Looking like the backup band for Alice Cooper, this supergroup of psychological archetypes forces the party guests to compete against each other in a host of mundane blood sports, with the loser of each activity forfeiting their life.

The group of “friends” turn on each other within minutes, to the surprise of nobody. For a while, Frid’s family seems to be immune from this behavior, until a shocking turn of events near the movie’s climax. Rather than face the inevitable, Blackstone’s wife (played by future Eternian sorceress Christina Pickles) commits suicide. As the number of guests begins to dwindle, Blackstone comes to the conclusion that his own life is worth more to him than his own son’s and sells the lad out. The movie is an experiment in trolling the audience, and will probably leave you feeling vaguely dirty afterward.

Part of SEIZURE’s problem is its opaque plot. I’m not entirely sure what the movie is really about … these monsters seem to have sprung from Blackstone’s imagination, but we’re not given any clues as to why until moments before the credits roll. Even then, the explanation is a cop-out. The movie is so intentionally cryptic that there might be a great many things buried in the script that could illuminate matters, if you were inclined to dig deeper. Then again, Stone is a well-known fan of hallucinogenic drugs, so who the hell knows what his motivations were.

SEIZURE is not a great movie. It’s not even a good movie, but the stock value of its many creative curiosities has soared since its brief theatrical release more than 40 years ago. At the top of that list is, arguably, the film’s status as Oliver Stone’s first feature film. Stone would go on to become a much better filmmaker, and complete his career arc by again becoming a terrible filmmaker. Fans of PLATOON will see little of Stone’s presence in SEIZURE. Fans of NATURAL BORN KILLERS, on the other hand, will see his fingerprints all over it. (It’s worth noting that I quite like NBK, despite its many, many self-indulgent failings.)

SEIZURE’s cast is a lot more intriguing. Today, it’s best known as the film that broke Jonathan Frid. He had a love-hate relationship with acting for many years, and was preparing to quit the business entirely when he was convinced to take the role of Barnabas Collins on DARK SHADOWS in 1967. He had no particular fondness for horror and even less patience for crap, and SEIZURE proved to be one disappointing experience too many. He wouldn’t appear on screen again until 2012, in a too-brief walk-on role in Tim Burton’s DARK SHADOWS film.

SEIZURE is a film so terribly miscast that I have to believe its few functional decisions are just happy accidents. The only actors who come out of this movie unscathed are Mary Woronov and Hervé Villechaiz, who nail their every scene. Frid is less fortunate because of the bizarre decision to cast him as wallflower. He had a magnetic stage presence that sometimes worked against him, and was an ill fit for a role probably written with someone like Dustin Hoffman in mind. Frid’s performance in SEIZURE works sporadically, due to a script that purposefully seeks to obscure the true nature of his character. The movie intentionally gives Frid little to work with until the final act. His best moments in the film are his quiet moments, when he's not weighed down by clunky dialogue.

For all purposes, SEIZURE is a “lost” film, existing only today as a DVD ripped from an early VHS release. It’s likely to maintain its orphan status forever, because there’s no crass motivation to rescue it from obscurity. Just about everybody involved with the film has disowned it, and its legal rights are even in dispute, thanks to some shady business dealings involving the producers.  This means that future audiences will experience the film under dreadful conditions. I suspect the DVD currently available for sale on Amazon is an illegal bootleg (not that anybody cares,) but the picture transfer is shoddy, and the soundtrack is no better. SEIZURE's legacy hasn't even been given the benefit of a fighting chance. Meanwhile, you can HOWARD THE DUCK on DVD, complete with special features and 5.1 surround sound, a fact that should shake your faith in whatever god you pray to.

If you’re a fan of anybody involved with the film, SEIZURE is still worth searching out. It’s got the kind of creepy, stoner vibe seen not often seen in American horror films, and is so bizarre and original as to be almost refreshing. It’s not a movie you’re going to fall in love with, but is fine for an afternoon dalliance.

(NOTE: SEIZURE is a film I've been avoiding since first spotting it on video store shelves back in the 1980s. The cover art was typical of small-release horror films during the golden age of VHS: A photograph of a hooded, leather-clad executioner that would have more at home on the cover of a Molly Hatchet record than a horror movie. This "art" was a giant red flag. Independent video companies had no qualms when it came to bilking customers out of their movie, and frequently used misleading artwork (sometimes even changing the name of the film on packaging) in order to move units.

Besides, I liked Jonathan Frid. At that point, I hadn’t seen much DARK SHADOWS, but had concerns that SEIZURE was his PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE and had no interest in playing spectator to his professional decline. Those concerns have never really gone away. Since the ‘80s, I’ve seen DARK SHADOWS twice from start to finish, have become fairly familiar with Frid’s obscure stage credits, and have poured over hours of audio and video of his one-man shows. This past Halloween, I finally pulled the trigger and watched SEIZURE.)

AFTER SHADOWS: Kathryn Leigh Scott and STAR TREK

By PATRICK McCRAY

There's a difference between the best episode of a show and the best representation of a show.  STAR TREK is not a series about hanging out in a 1930's soup kitchen, but that's much of what happens in one its most beloved episodes.  Still, if someone asked me about he essence of STAR TREK, I'd have to turn them to something like "Return of the Archons."  Misguided society?  Check. Led by a supercomputer?  Check.  Gets driven crazy by Captain Kirk. Done! 

Because that sometimes feels like every other episode. 

I'd often wondered and hoped about seeing more DARK SHADOWS alums on STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION, and I was always disappointed by the lack.  One exception is also one of the most quietly challenging (and successful) guest performances.  In season three’s “Who Watches the Watchers,” KATHRYN LEIGH SCOTT delivers her finest impression of Vicki "I don't understand" Winters in what may be the quintessential representative episode of STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION.  Unlike Vicki, her character actually figures things out and is the ideological (rather than circumstantial) hero of the story.  No — more than ideological.  Intellectual.  (Only on STAR TREK!)

Dramatically, Ms. Scott provides a mini-seminar of an active, thinking, present performance that has a clarity of watchable, real, and unpredictable choices and transitions.  When characters make decisions and discoveries, it is one of the most interesting things to watch. Executing those with commitment has always been Ms. Scott's greatest strength.  If the script weren't written for her, she certainly makes it feel as much.
STAR TREK is not about the future, nor has it ever been.  It's about now, just translated in a way that's wacky enough to be non-threatening to the public.  Sort of.  Kinda.  By 'Who Watches the Watcher,' clearly Gene (addled though he was) and company had had it and were running out of subtle.  If it's a thinly veiled commentary, then the shmata is Saran Wrap.  There was probably no other way to tell the story, although setting it on another planet was safer than having them go back in time and whisper in some seminal shaman's ear.

The topic is a favorite of Gene's: religion.  Despite slight equivocations here or there, it was well-established that the Federation and our pre-DS9 heroes are, um, post-theological.  (Largely.)  Gene often spoke of his disdain for religion, and on shows, usually by presenting the deity as — and tell me if this sounds familiar — an ancient computer or power-hungry alien.

In this episode, a group of hidden anthropologists is studying a vaguely iron age tribe of Vulcan-like people.  When the holographic 'duck blind' hiding the anthropologists goes down, a panicking passerby ends up knocked out with a near-lethal injury and is sedated and beamed up to the Enterprise for a sickbay visit.  Unbeknownst to Crusher and company, he awakens and sees the ship's interior, full of lights, unseen voices, and people speaking reverently of The Picard.

Returning home, he enthuses of his experience, reasoning that the only explanation is that he had died, been to the afterlife, and encountered God.  His society had been post-theological for many generations, but his testimony sways them, and they begin forming a religion. 

Picard is mortified when he finds out, seeing superstition (a convenient euphemism for religion) as a blight on an otherwise rational culture.  Viewing the situation as one in which the Prime Directive had already been broken, the Captain decides to open up a can of Dawkins on them and prevent the religion from growing.  Kathryn Leigh Scott plays one of the more, um, "evidence-based" and trusted tribe members, so Picard brings her up to the Enterprise and shows her that it's just a sophisticated machine staffed by fellow mortals.  And an android.

Shaken-but-convinced, Ms. Scott's character returns to the village and valiantly reasons with her peers, but when it doesn't work, Picard has to make some dramatic illustrations to prove the point.  A happy ending is had by all.  Well, all atheists, anyway.

 

I'm not sure that you could get away with this episode now.  Certainly not after 9/11.  I was astounded when I first saw it.  I'll let you decide where you stand with the politics, but none can deny its charged content.  When I interviewed Ms. Scott, I was extremely keen to ask her if there'd been any water cooler talk about the show among the actors... a cast that also included Ray "Leland Palmer" Wise*.  When she mentioned events at her church, I demurred. 

My intimidation toward that is a testament to the power of the story.  It's not something to bring up casually.  That is not only high praise for the gutsy writing, but for the — pardon the word — humanity that Ms. Scott brought to the role.

AFTER SHADOWS: Mitchell Ryan and STAR TREK

STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION, "The Icarus Factor"

In which Burke Devlin boards the Enterprise-D and proceeds to get his swag all over everything.

First off, this isn’t meant to be some kind of Old Trek/Nü Trek turf war thing. I happen to like STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION, but the show sometimes had its head up its ass. Most people chalk it up to Riker's Beard, the appearance of which creates a fairly clear median line in the show's seven-year run. If you randomly watch an episode on ST:TNG and see a clean-shaven JONATHAN FRAKES, the reasoning, goes, then you should change the channel. But the problems with ST:TNG go a bit deeper than facial hair fashions.

Revisiting the show recently, ST:TNG (especially the early episodes) has a weird kind of detachment, like a Zager & Evans song come to life, only with less Spaghetti Western horns. More to the point, ST:TNG is like a DAFT PUNK song in that it feels like art made by robots for humans. All of the basic components of storytelling are there … they’re just a little off. It’s escapism for replicants. And here’s what finally tipped me off:

Have you ever seen a more synthetic family portrait? Someone made this, and it was supposed to represent sentimentality in the 24th century. THIS is what we’re supposed to be aspiring to: awkward Sears catalog portraits shot in front of a green screen. (And I’m pretty sure that’s a photo of Mitch Ryan's face from HIGH PLAINS DRIFTER added into the image, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Data is the true voice of ST:TNG. He’s a contraption that looks human, but isn’t. His primary character arc involves a search for what it means to be human, and it's telling that the show's other characters don't even understand the concept. Most of his crewmates were interchangeable, save for a single (sometimes abrasive) character element. Worf was angry, Picard was confident, Yar was humorless, and Riker ... played the trombone. Yeah, that last character flourish doesn't sound like much, but it's the kind of detail that stood in for "character development" during the first few yeas of ST: TNG. It took a while for the show to evolve beyond these growing pains (i.e., it got better once Gene left the show) but the first few seasons were trite and artificial.
 
The Icarus Factor, which first aired back in 1989, falls back on the hoary old “Daddy Issues” story cliche. Will Riker and his father, Kyle, haven’t spoken for a while, and have been estranged since the death of Mrs. Riker (I don’t recall them giving her a name in this episode, but I probably just missed it. Trek is way too OCD to let a detail like that pass.) All of this builds toward some kind of “judo” match that involves Mitch Ryan and Jonathan Frakes wearing BMX pads, helmets and visors, while swinging blindly at each other with American Gladiators pugil sticks and screaming Japanese non-sequiturs at each other.

This scene made me wonder: "Do actors actually know how fucking weird their jobs are?”

The episode is wrapped up with no real emotional payoff. The two Rikers decide to put aside their differences because the credits were about to roll, and might as well have been ushered off stage by SANDMAN SIMS. Riker the Younger decides his dad’s not so bad after all, then takes his career out behind the shed and puts it down OLD YELLER style by turning down command of his own starship.

Oh, and Worf does some really stupid shit that involves letting Klingons taser him. Dude has issues.

Ryan and Frakes are surprisingly well matched as father and son. Both of them are alike in a way that doesn’t require either to study the others’ physical habits to convey familiarity. If you’ve ever seen DARK SHADOWS (and if you’re reading this, you probably have) then you know that Ryan has a unique way of entering a scene. It’s nothing like Frakes’ "Ima knock a wall down with my head" technique, but it’s close enough for horseshoes. These are two guys who really know how to occupy a scene, and it’s fun watching their natural gravities in competition with each other. This episode is worth checking out for their  performances.

Oh, and you also get to hear Burke Devlin say “Ferengies.” That’s just a bonus.

This isn't the first time the paths of DARK SHADOWS and STAR TREK have crossed. ART WALLACE, the guiding light behind DARK SHADOWS, wrote a pair of episode of the original TREK in the '60s (neither of them are especially good.) KATHRYN LEIGH SCOTT, who appeared opposite Ryan in the first episode of DARK SHADOWS (and many more after) appeared on the ST:TNG episode WHO WATCHES THE WATCHERS in season three.

(Note: an earlier version of this piece ran on BLOOD DRIVE, the Collinsport Historical Society's Tumblr feed.)