The Dark Shadows Daybook: April 24

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this day in 1970: Episode 1001

What’s better than Lara Parker? Two Lara Parkers! Dark Shadows is seeing double in this very special episode where Angelique inaugurates her new life by beginning a spree of murder, malice, magic, and mirth! Chris Collins: Don Briscoe. (Repeat; 30 min.)

Angelique rises from the grave, draining Alexis of her life energy, exchanging clothes with her, and consigning her to the coffin to take her place at Collinwood. Cyrus begins changing spontaneously into Yaeger as Quentin moves to destroy what he things is Angelique’s body.

Dark Shadows passes its 1000th episode, and with no more milestones left, it slides into entropy, a perspective only possible when seeing the series as a whole. To put the division of the story into perspective, it has 224 episodes left. That’s only a few more than carried the story between Vicki’s arrival in Collinsport and the unleashing of Barnabas. 200 after that moment? We’ll find ourselves in the thick of the great man’s origin in 1795. The end of the next 200 brings Barnabas to the height of his struggle to reclaim his core goodness through both working for and fighting against Nicholas and Eve, seeing how easily his second self, Adam, falls from innocence to malevolence. The eventual triumph makes a proper midpoint for the series and over the next two hundred, our first hero -- Vicki -- leaves, and Barnabas enjoys the full height of his power before having iy taken away. The journey to episode 1000 will lead to his complete immobilization in Parallel Time while the series builds the necessity for him to stop running. In the final arc of the series, he realizes (like Dorothy Gale) that he lost nothing; a good man forced into the service of evil doesn’t become evil. In the right circumstances, he finally stops seeing himself as the man who was defeated by his own past and recognizes that the future is eternally unwritten.

You know, then it’s all 1841PT. And we all know how THAT is? Amiright? Amiright? And howabout that airline food? What’s up with that? Here’s a joke Jim Pierson told me over a curling match: an Irishman, Istvan, and a Leviathan walk into the Blue Whale….

… and the bartender says, “Aristede can stay, but only if the Caretaker gets to watch!”

1001 is all about unholy twins -- Angelique and Yaeger -- taking replacing the rightful hosts. The horror here is Dark Shadows at its most meta, because what else is Parallel Time but an unwelcomed substitute that seems interesting on the surface, but leaves us, like Barnabas, a chained prisoner who’s beginning to fear that this sinister duplicate might never leave? On some level, the writers had to be aware of that, even if it were never spoken aloud.

And before that sounds like a catty strike at the show, think about how that tight audience identification helps the overall story. Dark Shadows begins as the saga of someone seeking a home. But it never quite takes, does it? Barnabas refashions his house over and over again, only to lose it over and over again. In the case of Parallel Time, he thinks he’s found a better home, only to realize that he should have valued what he had in the first place, even if it smells like Teen Jeb. Perhaps we should have, also. But once he realizes that, it’s too late. When he returns to Collinwood, it is already a smoldering hulk he failed to save… before he even gets the chance.

Dark Shadows is rampant with twins, doubles, and alternate sides. Of course, any drama is (actor vs. part), and none more than those in which we follow performers taking on parts so numerous that we stop identifying roles and simply note the actor beneath as the real character we follow. But PT is literally the show’s twin, born while the crew is creating yet another twin for the big screen. As we see Angelique take over for Alexa, and John “Lounge Hulk” Yeager burst out of Cyrus of his own volition, the show feels like it is finally being honest. Twins are intrinsically nightmares. If they are worse than us, we dread their potential havoc and implication. If they are better than we are, we dread them even more. We’ve been fighting to maintain our optimism while the show grinds away, and just when it’s wise to give up, the evil twins at least get it over with and assume the places of the good. PT thus earns its place, if not as a second home, then as a proving ground for Barnabas to see who he really is.

Lara Parker’s doubled performance, timed exquisitely, allows her to demonstrate range like few other moments granted to any actor on the show. She’s at her most maniacally fierce, so much so that we glimpse a strange rage boiling under the skin of a Memphis debutante who’s escaped the south but not quite the 1960’s. It’s a performance that, sure, what the hell, it’s acting… but it’s acting with a realism more easily interpreted as real. Parker, here, represents what makes the show so vital, and what makes her so vital to the show. It is that fusion of impossible beauty, impossible knowledge, and impossible rage that fascinates us, frightens us, repels us, and makes it impossible to turn away.

One veteran not to survive this moment is Don Briscoe. It’s his last, haggard, exhausted episode. Briscoe remains a paragon of gentle magnetism and relatability. He’s what we’d like to see in ourselves, and somehow that guy snuck onto the set. His presence, even as a villain, was immediately reassuring that we, inexplicably but clearly, had a friend at Collinwood. He was holding a place for us at the table, not as impossibly macho as Burke nor as neurotic as Willie, Briscoe was the truest audience surrogate on the show. It’s a colder show -- and world -- without him.

This episode hit the airwaves on April 27, 1970.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: April 24

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1968: Episode 482

When Lang is in search of a new assistant with nerves of steel, Barnabas can think of only one man: Loomis. Willie Loomis. Barnabas: Jonathan Frid. (Repeat. 30 min.)

Barnabas suggests Willie to Lang as his new assistant after Jeff Clark quits. Jeff is compelled to appear at Maggie’s and hear the dream. That night, he has it.

Barnabas Collins reveals himself to be master of the game as he delivers the greatest blow possible to Eric Lang. When the greatest scientific mind in the western world, abandoned by Roger Davis, needs an assistant for the most important experiment in human history, Barnabas knows just the man. The assistant need only “good hands and a lot of nerve.” Who’s up? Joe Haskell? Buzz Hackett? Ross “The” Skipper?

No. No, my friends. For such a mission, there is only one man.

Who better than the cravenly, hysterical, alcoholic, multiple bullet wound survivor and PTSD poster boy, William H. Loomis, esq, late of Windcliff Sanitarium? This, to me, is proof positive that Barnabas has no real interest in a cure. Yes, Roger Davis -- who now has friends in Collinsport and good for him -- is an impossible act to follow, but is Willie really the preferred weapon here? The best part is that Lang hears that the lad is in a mental institution and has absolutely no qualms about using him. It just goes to show what you can accomplish when you have the lowest (or most conveniently expedient) standards possible. With this one decision, and perhaps it’s a test by Barnabas that they both fail. In doing so, Lang reveals himself to be the Hal Needham of mad science. Complete daring and utterly artless. And THAT’S why he gets things done. If only Mike Henry had played Adam.

Then Maggie answers the door in an oven mitt.

It may be the single most ghastly costume piece ever forced on a performer on Dark Shadows. When a skirt made from the Collinsport Afghan is too muted and tasteful, look to Ohrbach’s, my friend. And when people want to know what women actually wore in the era, look to certain scenes on Dark Shadows. This is a garment so eye-popping that no one would have kept it. No one would revive it. No costume designer would try putting a star in it for some period piece. It is a skirt lost to history. But no agendas existed then except to sell stuff from Ohrbach’s, and thus, the show again serves a new purpose -- that of time capsule. Like David Collins’ Matt Mason toys, Dark Shadows is an accidental portrait of so much that would otherwise be lost to Newer and Better. And what else are you supposed to wear for Roger Davis to appear at your door and ask you about your dreams?

The dream curse is truly up and running now as we have our first viral transmission of it, and as we understand what the shtick is going to be for the next few weeks. It both builds and consistently backfires as the show’s effects reach finally exceeds its practical and budgetary grasp. This is a problematic era for the show, at once a pure example of it and the first major storyline that gets vague derision from certain fans. Still, it serves an interesting set of purposes, psychologically. First, of course, it’s a basic Rorschach test to reveal the characters. Although we know them intimately, the program was gaining new audiences by the thousands each week, and the dream curse cleverly catches them up with the core roster, including their most revealing fears. It’s also the first example of the show letting itself down in almost every aspect of the technical execution of something. This is important to fans, because it forces you to make a choice: accept the effects for what they are or defect. Once you agree to go with it, you agree to accept that the special effects on the program are symbolic. And after that compact is made, the show is no longer bound by any attempt to render the fantastic credibly. Only then can they truly cut loose with thinking that suggests, “Hey, they accepted the dream curse. Why not take them to Hell?” Dark Shadows could only do the impossible because all effects were probably going to fall short. Not that they’d aim for that, but when that is the result, anything is possible.

In this sense, the dream curse is more a blessing than something less.

This episode hit the airwaves April 30, 1968.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: April 19

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1967: Episode 215

Maggie congratulates Burke on his handling of Willie Loomis when Joe arrives and explains in shock that his uncle’s calf has been drained of blood. Willie comes in, despite Burke’s prior warning, and collapses at the bar. Jason and Burke discuss Willie’s condition, and Jason confronts his former lackey.

With his nervously indefatigable sense of tally-ho in the later portions of the show, it’s easy to forget the truly portentous, necrotic essence that Barnabas brought to the show. There is an ugly and unforgiving feeling to what’s happening to Collinsport that goes beyond Lucy or Mina simply becoming a little pale. Dead cattle and a battered, terrified street kid are just a prelude. It seems so antithetical to the nostalgic charm that he uses with Vicki and the family. He’s like a deadly, carnivorous insect that has chosen to camouflage itself as innocently as possible. I’d argue for this being a Jekyll and Hyde riff, but there’s no remorse. Barnabas has almost two centuries to think about what he wants and deserves and has been denied. When it comes to wanting to see the world burn, the Joker barely has a smouldering match compared to Barnabas.

This is the first real episode to go beyond a romantically rhapsodizing, anti heroic man of mystery and show the dead rot under the Inverness cloak. Ironic that he’s not even there for the episode. We can thank the honest and shaken turns by the reliably truthful Joel Crothers and John Karlen for making Barnabas truly scary. Awed reactions to an offstage force engage the imaginations of the viewers, and together they can create a character that few actors can top. Jonathan Frid is one of them, and that’s a high compliment. (The nauseated confusion shown by Joe will take a lot to justify.)

The other contributor is Mitch Ryan. It’s one thing for John Karlen to show Willie’s vulnerability, taking a 180 turn from who we first met. It’s something else for the strongest character on the show to come to a dead halt over it. Willie has a fear so authentically-yet-subtly conveyed that Burke goes from wanting to slug fellow ex-con, Jason McGuire, to avuncularly collaborating with him on Willie’s condition. Barnabas’ effect is so profound that it changes loyalties and unites former enemies in a matter of seconds. Our fears have been justified; it will be impossible to know what Barnabas is capable of in the future, but there is one thing he cannot be: underestimated.

On this day in 1967, film producers finally got back to Ian Fleming with CASINO ROYALE. All kidding aside, it’s a wild mess of a mish mash and, if you turn off expectations, pure fun.

This episode hit the airwaves April 24, 1967.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: April 24

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1970: Episode 1001

Angelique finally confronts Alexis and saps her of her life energy, returning to Collinwood as her own twin. Meanwhile, Quentin continues to sense the presence of Daemon Edwards’ ghost. Chris visits Cyrus, who assures the lawyer that he is freely choosing to establish a $5,000 bank account for a “John Yaeger.” Cyrus later joins Quentin to destroy the body of “Angelique” (actually Alexis). Afterwards, he asks a reluctant Cyrus to wait in the drawing room while he fetches Alexis to make introductions. As she demurs, Cyrus transforms into Yaeger without the aid of the formula.

You never would have guessed it. He’s cogent, relaxed, sharp with his cues. Nevertheless, he’s also in his last episode because of unchecked drug use. Who? Don Briscoe, and his exit from the show is perhaps its quietest, darkest moment. There were two DS actors notorious for substance abuse. The other was Mitch Ryan. But while Ryan was able to address and conquer his alcoholism within a few years, restoring his career with a vengeance, Don was not so lucky. His experimentation with harder drugs included, I believe, hallucinogens. Stories abound of him coming into work and sitting in one wastepaper basket too many, and that was it. I look at the bright, wry, ironic, tortured souls he would play. Then I read reports of how intellectual he was. I consider the age. Yeah, he was a sitting duck, much like Brian Wilson. You take a bright, sensitive, intellectual man in the fine arts in the late 1960’s, give him an opportunity to expand his mind with experimental chemicals, and things like this are going to happen. Other DARK SHADOWS actors, Chris Pennock and Michael Stroka, engaged in similar experimentation common for the period and were fine. (More-or-less-and-kids-don’t-do-this-at-home.) Their comparable survival might be attributed to a different or lesser cocktail… or the fact that Don may have had a delicate psyche in the first place. His was an incredible loss as he moved back in with his parents in a mentally precarious state and, like the aforementioned Brian Wilson, gained an impressive amount of weight over the years. Diehard fans of Don Briscoe (of which I am one) might bristle that his CV gets overshadowed by the way he went out, but it is a cautionary image. Cautionary not only in the obvious warnings of drug use, but in the implied and arguable implications that decriminalization and regulation might have saved his life and career. Who knows what might have happened had he experimented under the care of a doctor, as did Cary Grant?

On this day in 1970, the People’s Republic of China launched its first satellite. Good thing it wasn’t a hawkish, brutal dictatorship. Nope, nothing to be concerned about. Move along. Move along.