The Dark Shadows Daybook: August 10

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this day in 1970: Episode 1079

When the power of a gorgeous ghost compels him, will Quentin complete an exorcism before the spirits change David’s wardrobe? Quentin: David Selby. (Repeat; 30 min.)

Daphne leads Quentin to a graveyard to see familiar tombstones. He vows to help, but it’s clear she has mixed intentions. He later tries to exorcise the house, but Daphne’s influence strops him. Meanwhile, Hallie goes from slave to the ghosts to the realization that she’s their prisoner as she and David attempt a seance.

I’m not sure what’s going on in this episode or storyline, but I can’t stop watching it. If anything is my takeaway on Dark Shadows, it’s that. Beginning with Vicki’s parentage, it’s a program about withholding information. 1079 elevates the unspoken to its rarest expression. That kind of ambiguity draws the audience into the storytelling process, and the rigor of it in this is equally demanding and rewarding. Some of the power of Gerard’s plan, if we can even call it a plan, is its allusiveness. The ultimate goal is the destruction of Collinwood, but fewer knives have been as serrated, and the horror of Gerard (since we know where it’s going) lies in the unnecessary damage he causes to those he’s marked for death or madness, anyway.

When the episode isn’t reveling in repressed sexuality, it’s venturing a little too boldly into deeper taboo on a rubber raft of counterfeit ambiguity. It begins with a visual metaphor so bold there might be no meta left at all. We find Quentin in the graveyard as Daphne points out her own tombstone. Quentin must have some sort of partial memory of being a ghost or being dead, or a sense of it, because even though the timeline has changed, he was once a zombie, after all. And he certainly understands being from another time. Given that, a dead woman from the 1800’s is someone Quentin can't resist. Is she silently imploring his help, or is he simply assuming that? Considering that, as they begin their embrace, she's holding a knife at his back without his knowledge, it sums up far, far too many relationships.

As the episode goes on, Selby gets to show an amazing range of sincerity and furtiveness as he attempts to exorcise the home, and probably its temptations, eventually sabotaging those same efforts and lying about it. Not only is he lying about it, he's enjoying the process. As he lies to Julia about the extent of Daphne's control at the end of the episode, he has a naughty, hostile smile that is worthy of Jack Torrance. And it's an example of a very human, very subtle moment that exists completely in the face. It really has no formal name, but David Selby has a disturbing degree of control of it nonetheless.



David and Hallie dominate the rest of the episode, forced into playrooms and roleplay with dialogue that you have to strain to hear as single entendre. This is difficult subtext to confront because of the singularly awkward age of the performers. Both were around fifteen, neither adults nor children. In an effort not to sexualize them (ewww), the show goes too far in the other direction as it vaguely infantilizes them. The net result feels even more perverse than if they’d let them be fifteen. The exact reason for insisting that David dress up and submit to the whim of a beautiful ghost (who is nearly his age peer) is unclear and disturbing because of that murkiness. The substitute costumes only further this. The selected outfits are of both the early 70’s and the 1840’s. They are the costumes of a very formal child or a very fanciful adult. Which is it? Which does Gerard want them to be? All of it, as long as it’s in paralyzing quantities. Gerard wants the adult David to know exactly what’s being done to him while the child David knows he’s powerless to stop it.

This episode hit the airwaves on Aug. 13, 1970.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: August 3

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1970: Episode 1076

During the lunar eclipse, the children find the playroom, and Hallie seems possessed by a woman from an earlier time. She doesn’t remember this later, but Daphne’s ghost reappears to tempt her with a Regency-era dress. Meanwhile, a loveless Quentin spots Daphne’s grave, and a dream appearance by her becomes reality when lilacs mysteriously appear in the drawing room.

On the podcast in which Wallace, Will McKinley, and I discussed NIGHT OF DARK SHADOWS, we agreed that the film was more of an art film than a horror movie. If that motif has a beginning for the franchise, it’s right around here. It’s tough to write about the Ragnaraok sequence without meditating on both its difference from the rest of the franchise and its representation of it. In fact, it’s becoming an annual tradition at the Daybook. It needs advocates, and those are tough to find. The reasons? As 1076 shows us, it’s not fun. It’s vaguely piebald when it comes to characters who’ve been with the program from the beginning. Barnabas and Julia seem more desperate and less certain than ever. Quentin is joyless and joylessly untrustworthy. Visually, the fashions and hair make it stand out wildly from what we’re used to from most of the show. Most importantly, it’s a downer. Other storylines are about averting probable doom. In this, it’s about witnessing a protracted inevitability. The minute we see characters in period costumes and know that at least two time portals exist within the house, it’s clear this is headed to 1840. Do we really have to see Maggie become diseased and insane and bedridden to make that happen?  Soaps thrive on cliffhangers. Ragnaraok is a checklist of bad things we know will happen.

The trick to this sequence is adjusting expectations. This is not Lyndon Johnson’s DARK SHADOWS; it’s Richard Nixon’s. And that’s okay. Before, the series was about who and what. Who was behind the door? What is Barnabas going to do next? Now, it’s more a show about when and how. Gerard is a prime sadist, and like a moodier Petofi, attacks his opponents’ weaknesses with Seraut-like precision. Hallie is shuffled between homes, and his approach is to show her an era in which she has meaning waiting for her. David, growing up too suddenly and too fast, enjoys a playroom and alternate identity that literally turns back -- way back -- the clock. And Quentin gets a terrible, manipulative girlfriend. There’s a reason that Commander Riker turned away Q’s powers on TNG and Dr. Chidi Anagonye rejected Michael’s “opposite tortures” on THE GOOD PLACE. As anyone who falls into the gifting reciprocity trap can tell you, it’s never good.

Yes, there is some mystery and suspense, if fatalistic. This sequence is as much a chance to actually “be” with the characters, and the combative David/Hallie sequences are offset by the ones with Quentin and Julia. Where do the latter go to think? Of course, Quentin would go to a cemetery, and what’s that like for him, even under normal circumstances? He remembers so many of the years on both ends of these lives. And, of course he would flirt with Julia. For Quentin, she’s an unthinkably younger woman. When Quentin muses about needing a woman, Julia says he wants a drinking partner. Perhaps she’s missing a drinking partner and hinting for one, and he’s hinting as well. Of course, he puts down his glass, she drops the subject, and everyone remains good, sober friends. No wonder this doesn’t feel like traditional DARK SHADOWS.

Is this padding? You bet. Is it padding with great characters and touching, revealing moments? Right again, and it’s worth it for that.

This episode hit the airwaves Aug.10 , 1970.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: August 10

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1967: Episode 301

Barnabas is dissuaded from killing Devlin -- immediately, anyway -- by Willie, who stresses that Burke is well-liked, unlike Jason McGuire. Meanwhile, Vicki parses through her decision as Devlin mends fences with Elizabeth, a chat with whom helps Vicki make up her mind. Barnabas and Burke enjoy a tense drink at the Blue Whale as it becomes clear that Burke is amassing information to use against him.

The centerpiece of this episode may be the series’ most famous verbal battle… that doesn’t result in gunplay, witchcraft, or a hurled brandy glass. It is widely reported as one of Jonathan Frid’s favorite scenes. Burke and Barnabas enjoy drinks at the Blue Whale. It is a study in the fine art of playing the opposite. The more vicious the implication, the wider-eyed the innocence in asking, the more genteel the invitation to rumble. Burke likens their relationship to a game of cards. For Barnabas, it’s a saber duel. Burke takes the moral high ground until Barnabas points out that a card game can be just as deadly. There is a strange glimmer of affection from Barnabas to Burke, but I think it’s just the certainty of Devlin’s upcoming murder that is warming Barnabas’ heart.

Why did Frid love the scene? Playing opposites is always great fun and makes any actor feel like a smartypants. It’s all about implication, and that makes it into a game. Hinting at menace is great fun. Showing it is ultimately undignified. As far as hints go, these are some of TV’s most lethal.

On this day in 1967, BONNIE AND CLYDE was a box office champ, spreading the Gospel of the Anti-Hero across America. DARK SHADOWS got there first.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: AUGUST 10

    Gentle Reader,
    Sometimes, a man has a long day. Like,“real long” to be scientific. And on those days, although Roger stays mad, and although Burke and Barnabas have the overrated conversation about squaring off with cards versus cutlasses (made wacky by the Herb Alpert-ian music in the background), you gotta say… “I’ll have a Big Montana, medium curly fries, and a Jamocha shake.”
    But you must also say,“If I chronicle but one episode of this, the greatest thing on TV not starring Benny Hill, which should it be? When we look at the vast expanse of Collins history, what moment is most crucial?”
    And you feel like a Kryptonian Elder in a mylar frock, and you… hey, what am I doing? I have to write about this or I’ll be up all night. 

Aug. 10, 1970
Taped on this date: Episode: 1079

Quentin, entranced by Daphne’s ghost beyond reason, follows her to her grave. Acting with all of the sad wisdom of a lovestruck teenager, he moves to embrace the ghost. Acting like an existential punchline from a Henny Youngman joke, she draws a blade to stab him in the back. When Quentin offers to put her spirit at peace, she puts the knife away and looks away. He’d do anything to put her at peace. After he says this, she vanishes. Quentin wants to help her, despite the blade she leaves behind on the ground. David visits Hallie and finds her in the antique dress she was to put into the attic. David is disturbed that he found clothes from the same period on his bed. She begs him to put them on, guilting him by saying he wants to make neither she nor Daphne happy. She storms off. Quentin enters Collinwood, and Julia reminds him that “the day of the picnic” was the second clue in Future Carolyn’s note. Quentin says that nothing happened, but Julia senses Gerard’s presence. Quentin says that they owe it to the spirits to try and perform an exorcism to put them at rest. Future Stokes almost lost his life in an exorcism of the house, but Quentin brims with braggadocio and insists on performing it that night. David and Hallie discuss the trouble she will be in. She claims to have walked to Gerard’s ship where she spied him kissing Daphne, both of whom grew angry at her voyeurism. David says it makes no sense. She now resists being called “Hallie.” When things grow shrill, the door squeals open and Daphne enters. Hallie apologizes to Daphne, offering to accept punishment.

But after a wordless communication, Hallie knows that Daphne forgives her. Hallie takes her hand and encourages David to take Daphne’s other. Downstairs, Julia paces. Quentin enters with divining rods. He says the ceremony is simple but may leave distress in the house when finished. He and Julia go outside, and Quentin begins his ceremony. Upstairs, David is reluctant to take Daphne’s hand, but Hallie tempts him that he will learn the truths of Gerard and his ship. Outside, Quentin continues a vaguely Christian-but-not-quite exorcism. The exorcism disturbs Daphne, who flees. Hallie is convinced that someone else is angry and will punish them. David insists that they are alone in the playroom. Hallie, however, screams and collapses. Outside, Quentin just keeps going. As he’s reaching a head, he suddenly stops, struggling with the phrase, “Cast thyselves back into the darkness from whence ye came.” He asks Julia to wait as he heads inside. In the foyer, he sees Daphne glaring at him with burning intent. Up in the playroom, Hallie comes to, and Hallie complains of her injured arm and wonders why she’s in the strange clothes. David is determined to learn who Gerad and Daphne are, and takes Hallie to find Julia. Before they can, Julia comes back in to ask Quentin what’s wrong. A semi-dazed Quentin says that he never thought there would be that reaction to the ceremony. He says that the spirits in the house mean no harm. Julia is incredulous, wondering why he stopped when he did. David and Hallie enter and report the injured arm. She sends them into the drawing room, telling Quentin that the spirits injured Hallie during the exorcism. Later, Hallie (with her arm in a sling) and David go to the playroom to hold a seance to answer their questions. David’s seen the grownups do it a lot of times. David prepares the table, lights a candle, and dims the lamp. David begins to summon the spirits. He asks for a sign and the strange, whirring drone of the spirits begins. He then hears his own voice repeat, “Let us live.”

As I wrote about in the MONSTER SERIAL essay on INSIDIOUS, horror exploits our paranoia of losing control. While some critics of this storyline may claim that the protagonists are behaving out-of-character, that is, of course, the point. Quentin, the most seasoned and cynical member of the ensemble is turned into a weak, lovestruck flunky for Gerard and Daphne. Think about that. We see this all through the eyes of Julia. Although she knows that one possible endpoint is in the midst of Quentin’s future madness, she (as do we) also know that Present Quentin is one of her toughest, most knowledgeable allies in the fight against Collinwood’s looming doom. Seeing him taken out and turned against her is disquieting enough. Seeing him so hopeless and languid in the process is even more disturbing because we know that he is rewarded by neither savage joy nor the release from fear. He’s doing it to please a woman we know will and can never truly be his. Gordon Russell, a stellar author, pushes our buttons and defies our expectations, all at once.