The Dark Shadows Daybook: July 28

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this day in 1970: Episode 1071

Quentin has his doubts when Barnabas lures him to a closet with the assurance that there’s a playroom inside. Barnabas: Jonathan Frid. (Repeat; 30 min.) 

Barnabas and Julia arrive from the future -- and the opposite end of the house -- to a delighted Quentin, Liz, and their new guest, Carrie Stokes, the professor’s niece. Carrie remains suspicious of the two, perhaps because there’s only so much bacon at bruch, and until recently, she had it all to herself since David read Maggie’s Casteneda book and went vegetarian. Barnabas and Julia set about trying to identify Daphne and Gerard. When Barnabas tries to show Quentin the playroom, he simply fubles around in the linen closet and shrugs. 

If there is one Dark Shadows episode that lurks in my memory as the model for all of the very best, it’s this one. It’s genuine speculative action. There’s mystery, suspense, a supernatural threat, lies, kindness, warmth, kinship, and an optimistic sense of adventure. Collinwood is treated as it should be; it’s a home that’s held with affection. This bastion is a fortress to be protected, not feared. And it’s first and last son, Barnabas, has such a sense of can-do problem-solving, he should be dressed as Athos and demanding that they stop the machinations of Richelieu and M’Lady at once, lest France fall to the Pope once and for all. I get that image from the way Barnabas bounds into the drawing room with Julia, to proudly announce they’ve arrived back from both Parallel Time and the Future. It’s the kind of delivery you’d see Errol Flynn give to Basil Rathbone… as balloons fell from the ceiling. 

And honestly, after arriving back from such exotic destinations, how else is a man to enter? They’ve even captured Kathy Cody trying to break into the ensemble, and she’s locked in Paul Stoddard’s trunk. What is Eliot doing trying to pawn her off at Collinwood, anyway? This man hosted Adam, for god’s sake. What is Carrie Stokes doing to the upholstery that he dumps her with Liz? She’s just warming up for an intensely uncomfortable evening visit to Quentin’s bedroom. Seriously, they remark about the strange feelings she’s been having. It’s the scene where Quentin barely restrains himself from sprinting out of the room and calling his lawyer.

Other than that, Collinwood has found a strange equilibrium. Carolyn’s in mourning, which has basically sedated her. Liz is in a decent mood, largely because she’s had David Selby all to her herself. Quentin has ditched the turtleneck for a suit, and seems blandly at peace, comfortable to stand around and look handsome. David and Carrie are busy ignoring the fact that they are almost out of puberty’s oven. It’s best we don’t know what they’ve found snooping in Quentin’s sock drawer, but I doubt it’s I Ching wands and a mummified hand. Life is good. It’s that weird calm that soap operas slip into between storylines. It’s important to see the house at such ease. Gordon Russell creates an excellent Pax Collinsus from which it’s all going to hell. These are the moments that will make us nostalgic in the times to come.

For a man charged with preventing a localized apocalypse, Barnabas is in an excellent mood. As well he should be. From his heroic high in 1897, he plunges in the Leviathan storyline, only having to work it off in Parallel Time and 1995. There’s an interesting detail to 1995, because it presupposes the absence of Barnabas and Julia. Why are they absent? Presumably because they are in Parallel Time. What were they doing in Parallel Time? At that hour? In those outfits? Barnabas, cursed with vampirism, was hoping he’d be different there. And why was he cursed with vampirism? Yet another deal for Josette with another sinister force. Had he recognized his power and thought more expansively, Barnabas might have used the situation rather than being used by it. He wasn’t in a position to do that, then. He is, now. And he has an ethical mandate to do it -- arguably, had he been at Collinwood, he might have prevented Gerard’s ascent.

At least, that’s what he thinks. Collinwood’s full of time travelers. They all have ample evidence that their actions can and will change the future. Barnabas has a road map to it. It’s incorrect. Doom will result. But now, Barnabas is ready. 

This episode hit the airwaves on Aug. 3, 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 3

By PATRICK McCRAY

Aug. 3, 1966
Taped on this date: Episode:37

It’s the middle of the night, Roger is awake in the drawing room, fraught with fear. He phones Sam, similarly awake. He wants Sam to cancel Burke’s portrait session immediately. Vicki, awake, walks in and is assailed by Roger, who accuses her of listening in. Vicki informs him that she tried to quit, but Liz prevented it. He brings further attention to himself by forbidding her to speak of the phone call she didn’t hear. At the Evans cottage, an awakened Maggie wants to know what the phone call was about. He tells her not to worry, but she will. After she retires, Sam pens a note. Maggie, still awake, asks about it, but Sam keeps its contents a secret. The note, he reveals, is for Maggie, only to be opened in an emergency. She intuits that it was about Roger. Sam murmurs about ghosts. Back at Collinwood, mysterious weeping leads Vicki on a hunt for its origin. It leads her to the forbidden room in the basement. Footsteps follow her… those of Roger Collins. He’s furious that she’s doing anything beyond her job. The phone rings. It’s Ned Caulder, and Roger dismisses it. Vicki tries to tell Roger that Liz was desperate for the call. Roger scolds her again, but apologizes. Vicki won’t buy it, but Roger implores her to speak with him. Roger blames his temper on the pressure. He apologizes unilaterally to prevent her from complaining to Liz. Vicki will accept his apology if Roger will acknowledge the sobbing. He does, and has no idea of its origin. Ghosts? Roger feels they are real indeed.

If Roger were any more Nixonianly paranoid about phone calls, he’d start speaking in the third person. But he has a strong streak of Eddie Haskell, as well, when he tries to seduce Victoria into not having Liz give him the royal redass he deserves.

(Episode 28 airs on this date.)

Aug. 3, 1967
Taped on this date: Episode:298

Liz and Carolyn theorize that, with the recuperation of Maggie, they should be safe from the maniac who once roamed Collinwood. Nevertheless, Carolyn senses impending doom. Burke arrives to ask Liz to buy Seaview, the house he looked at earlier. Liz agrees. Carolyn warmly invites him in, knowing it’s for Vicki. Liz finds that the deed is marked “not for sale.” She knows little else about the house. Liz and Carolyn agree to examine the house with Burke. At the house, Liz marvels at Burke’s urge to settle down. He wants her approval, and that warms both. Liz suggests that there is a coldness to the house that makes her uneasy. Burke wants to know the cost, but Liz is uncertain. At the Evans cottage, Vicki probes Maggie on her memory of the night someone tried to break into her room. Maggie feels so close to remembering everything, and wants to. But she just can’t. The loss of time and memory is infuriating. Vicki suggests that she thought she saw her at the Eagle Hill cemetery. It seems strangely familiar, but Maggie still can’t recall. It doesn’t make sense. When Maggie hears that Vicki was putting flowers on the grave of Josette, Maggie goes into a strange reverie and begins to remember. The name has significance, but what? Maggie the remembers a grave, then a coffin. A knock at the door heralds Julia, looking for Sam. Julia eavesdrops on the memories of coffins and graves. Vicki further gets her attention with the mention of Barnabas and the Old House. Julia steps in with her hypnotic medallion. Vicki goes for tea, and Julia re-hypnotizes Maggie to forget. When Vicki returns, Maggie remembers nothing.

Seaview. A nod to Seaview Terrace, the home used for the exterior shots of Collinwood. In my fevered imagination, it provided the name for Collins Oceanic’s secret construction project for Admiral H. Nelson’s revolutionary submarine that saved the Earth any number of times. If you can separate DARK SHADOWS from the Irwin Allen Universe, you’re a better man than I. Seriously, I saw Seaview Terrace by accident back in 1998. I was chaperoning a trip to the Boston area. We’d just been to Lovecraft Country and were headed to the Breakers mansion. The bus turned a corner and there it was. It’s surprisingly close to the road. Very few images have taken my breath away. This may be the most mythically resonant one I’ve ever seen. You know in STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE, when Kirk gets that exterior tour around the refit Enterprise? Yeah, it was that. I never feel fear or foreboding when I see that building. Collinwood, as much as anything, represents hope and possibility. It was a James-Horner-COCOON-theme moment.  I’ll never forget it. Worth the drive. Also… Fact: Julia Hoffman… she swings a mean hypnodisc.

(Episode 289 airs on this date.)

Aug. 3, 1970
Taped on this date: Episode: 1076

The first sign in Carolyn’s list… the night of the sun and the moon… happens with a lunar eclipse. Meanwhile, David and Hallie follow the music they hear along with the note, “When the music stops, the play begins.” They find the doors to the playroom swing wide, and they enter. Hallie knows that the door should have been to a closet, but David suspects it is the ghost of a room. David seems scared, but Hallie is suddenly enchanted. She even knows the names of the horses on the spinning toy. David wants to know to whom the toys belong. Hallie suddenly speaks in an 1800’s vernacular, but David is perplexed. She suddenly asks to be called a name other than Hallie. Suddenly, Hallie cames to and grows frightened. The scent of lilacs fills the room, and they know “she’s here.” Hallie dashes out with David in pursuit. Left in the room? The ghost of Daphne. As the clock strikes, Quentin comes down to rouse Julia. The kids are asleep, the sun is up, and all is at peace. Maybe Carolyn’s 1995 warning meant nothing. Just the warnings of madness. But what of the house in ruins and Future Quentin’s insanity. Julia insists that the clues are their only guide to prevent the catastrophe. David visits a nervous Hallie. He wanted to see the ghost but she is unsure. She has no memory of her brief moment of nineteenth century reverie. All she remembers was entering the room, feeling fear, and the scent of lilacs. She has had it. She’s putting the dress from the attic back. David thought it was fun, but Hallie is hysterical. Julia finds Quentin drinking in the drawing room, thinking himself lonely. He says he wants a woman; Julia says he wants a drinking partner. She’s going to town to research Gerard. Quentin compliments her perfume, but she’s not wearing any. He can’t describe the scent until she leaves. Then he realizes it’s lilacs. Later, Quentin and Julia find each other in the cemetery. She’s coming back from town; he’s there to think. She found nothing about Gerard, and they examine his headstone. She then points out Daphne’s tombstone. Daphne was a ghost he spoke of in the future. She had a hold on him in the future. She was beautiful, impassive, and had the scent of lilacs. Quentin lies that the scent means nothing to him. Back in the Collinwood foyer, Hallie hears the playroom music, but David doesn’t. He wants to go, but she wants to stay. David accuses her of making it up, but she holds fast. Alone, she returns to the playroom, not knowing why she came. The doors open by themselves and she sees Daphne, sternly gazing at her. Hallie knew she’d be there. Daphne proffers the dress hallie put away. Hallie begs her to tell why she wants her to have the dress, and reluctantly takes it. In the drawing room, Quentin drinks and ponders the name of Daphne and the scent of lilacs. He falls into a dream where lilacs appear before him. In his dream, Daphne enters the drawing room and lays lilacs on the table before him. He calls her name, happily, but she withdraws. He begs her to stay. Quentin wakes to find himself alone. Except for the bouquet of lilacs that Daphne placed in the dream. Quentin smiles and asks for Daphne to appear to him.

If you’re a ghost from the 1800’s, you have to take out your greatest threat: master mage Quentin Collins. And how? Through his heart, with a woman from his own mother’s era. No one says it, but it’s as Oedipal as it gets. You see? He pulls a sword, you pull a bouquet of lilacs.That’s how you get Quentin Collins. That’s the Collinwood way. More happens in this episode than in the first six months of the series. (Trust me.)

(Episode 1071 airs on this date.)