The Dark Shadows Daybook: DECEMBER 31

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1970: Episode 1186

Just when you thought it was safe to go back to the east wing, Parallel Time is here to stay. But will Daphne go with it? Morgan Collins: Keith Prentice. (Repeat; 30 min.)

Quentin is sentenced to a beheading and denied an appeal as Barnabas schemes for a new plan of action. Meanwhile, Gabriel overhears Edith and Gerard in the throes of passion and subsequently kills her. Daphne stumbles onto the Parallel Time room where her double confronts a sister, Catherine, who is ambiguous over a marriage proposal from Morgan Collins. She is still in love with a prior flame.

The future coughs significantly in the wings as 1840 begins fumbling for its boarding pass, and the transition is a complex, rich delight, and easily the most nuanced storyline transition of any on the show. It has become a huge universe, and a “transish” should not be a tidy thing.

1186 is typical of the 1840 storyline. It packs in all of the thematic and ritualistic good stuff we look for in DS and skips the repetitive running-in-place that so often turns off new viewers. I know, because I watched it with someone who had only passing familiarity with the program, and it kept his attention on more than a polite level. In one episode, we have…

1. The results of a witch trial, where the real world contends with the supernatural, and vice-versa. 
2. The remorse from one friend toward a troubled other, defying expectation and ending with threats over the stewardship of Collinwood.
3. The revelation of romance within.
4. Quentin’s Theme as ghostly bait.
5. A seemingly disabled man stands and kills his wife.
6. Someone ventures near Parallel Time. 

It’s an almost dizzyingly dense combination of show elements. Are the writers getting desperate or are they just tired of ploddingly plotting at the strangely arrested pace demanded by the medium? It’s cosmically irrelevant. By this point, Dark Shadows has become its own medium and it is finding a tempo commensurate with the intelligence of its audience. Hey, you guys… the ones complaining that we suddenly have to tune in for every episode? Yeah, please go watch General Hospital or something. The rest of us like tuning in for every episode, and now we get even more great stuff per installment.

It’s a brisk, witty, suspenseful installment full of satisfying moments and strange wonder. Anything that begins with the threat of a beheading can’t be all bad, and the surrounding treatment of government bureaucracy should please anyone in the jaws of a mindless machine. When Barnabas appeals the impending separation of Quentin and Head, he’s told that, since there’s no precedent for that kind of crime & punishment, there’s no precedent for appeal. It’s reasoning that’s delivered with all of the confidence we expect from a bureaucrat who has no idea what’s going on, and who cares even less if you know it. With a week before the inevitability of death and axes, you’d think that Barnabas might want to, you know, send to Boston for a real lawyer, but he’s too busy working himself up to more harebrained schemes. What? We’ll have to find out.

This is an intensely head-oriented storyline, and as we see Gerard in vague remorse for Quentin, it could be that it’s both genuine and strategic. I never really know how much of what we see at this point is Gerard and how much is Judah Zachery, and I like to believe that it’s far more of the latter. Meanwhile, Christopher Pennock, perennial hero of the Daybook, knows that Gabriel is going into the windup for his exit and is relishing it. Gabriel may be the most dynamic and unpredictable limited-lifespan character on the show, and after brief, saving salvos of help and wit, he’s going for the Gloucester award with gusto. It’s a shame to see Terry Crawford go since Edith is the opposite of the simp that was Beth, but what an exit. 1840 admirably mixes the supernatural monsters with the real. The buildup of Gabriel in the wheelchair is suspenseful enough that a double dip of arise-and-kill is completely welcome, and Pennock’s towering height adds to the menace.

Speaking of double dips, it’s back to Parallel Time. Has Dark Shadows finally admitted that it works best as a period piece? With the exception of about 1710-1760, 1860, and 1920-1940, Dark Shadows has explored its timeline thoroughly, and even the treat of visiting one of those periods would be a challenge given the strictures of the mythos (not that it ever stopped the writers before). At this point, the only way forward is sideways, and the introduction of Morgan Collins and a mysterious “other man” expands the DSU and harkens back to its sudsy origins. Morgan is in the classic mold of the Dan Curtis tall-dark-and-baritone leading man, which sets up a great bait-and-switch when Bramwell enters the picture. I don’t begrudge Jonathan Frid wanting the opportunity to play an earthier leading man. Less fun, ultimately, for Lara Parker. She’s commented that Angelique was too much of a goody-goody, which is true when the character’s not trying to murder children, and if that is the case, Catherine may be the chance to Be Real Pretty, but I’m not sure she’s more interesting as a figure of agency.

The underrated 1840 is entering its climax and denouement. Shifting completely to an entirely new storyline, with no substantive crossover, may be the program’s biggest gamble. Any ongoing crossover character would have been an ill fit, anyway, and the strangely mature 1841PT storyline finishes the show in a manner both familiar and strikingly different. Look beyond the surface, and what seems like “more of the same” is quite the opposite. Dark Shadows is about cycles, and the only thing left after  1841PT is Vicki’s arrival in 1966 Main Time… followed by the rest of the series, chronologically. The eventual and stable union of Bramwell and Catherine is the opposite of the seething mistrust and betrayals experienced by both Roger and Elizabeth in their Main Time marriages. It shows us the arc — not of “the characters,” but of Characters in the story of Dark Shadows. Only at Collinwood is the brightest future in the distant past… and in a parallel universe, at that.

This episode was broadcast Jan. 11, 1971.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: DECEMBER 21

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1970: Episode 1179/1180

What’s formerly undead, used to subsist on blood, was almost murdered by a key witness, and now is Collinsport’s newest lawyer? Meet Barnabas Collins for the defense! Barnabas: Jonathan Frid. (Repeat; 30 min.)

As Trask and Dawson seem triumphant, and as Quentin roasts without an attorney, Barnabas appears on the scene and takes over the case. He later catches Trask in several logical fallacies regarding his own participation in the occult, and although Trask fakes a coronary, Barnabas has already trapped him. Dawson turns the tables by bringing up Quentin’s relationship with the ghost of Joanna Mills, but this is turned upside down when a woman claiming to be Joanna mills enters the courtroom, asking to testify.

Pure joy. For a Dark Shadows fan with sensibilities like mine, that’s what this is. Victory at last!

They might as well have just allowed Jonathan Frid to come bursting in through the window, swinging on a rope attached to nothing but well-earned self-satisfaction. Would anyone have objected? He’s already wearing a cape. I have no objections to Lara Parker also dressed as Batgirl, although now that I think about it, this puts Grayson Hall in a Robin uniform. Yeah. Picture it. Merry Christmas. Not everyone can fill Dick Grayson’s tights like Thayer David, but Stokes isn’t in this episode.

It’s never been easy to get particularly excited about the Joanna Mills storyline, however the punchline of this episode can make even that an exciting moment. It’s one more victory for the heroes, perhaps, and yet another defeat for Trask and Dawson. Barnabas, by the way, makes a decent lawyer. This is another case for the classical education. Unfortunately, by the 20th century, specifically the 60s, I’m not sure there is much call for that. But this is still an era where your distant cousin might need an impromptu advocate, and the man doesn’t flinch. I have heard some people criticize this moment in the show as being one of the wackier non sequiturs in the latter part of the series. To me, it’s one of the most logical. It’s not like he’s a member of a vampire union that restricts its members. And if he work, I think Angelique cured him of his membership.

Barnabas isn’t allowed to have many moments like these because he’s too busy suffering; I’ll admit, the man is good at it. Maybe that’s why these vacations are so satisfying. Or maybe they’re just satisfying because, you know, they’re satisfying. Bad people are getting their keisters served up with bright, red apples in their… okay. Bad example. Or the perfect example? You tell me. In either case, the moment he enters the courtroom and the visit to Trask’s mortuary stand right alongside his revenge on Laura and the final moments of Nicholas Blair, part the first. He’s in the revenge business, not just for things like walling him up, but for all of it, from Josette leaping off the hill to Willie cracking his buttons while ironing. The whole magilla. Life is stingy with him.

Of course, much of the heavy lifting is brought to us by Jerry Lacy, who helplessly stammers as well as he excoriates. Lacy understands fear. It’s what motivates both his fright and fury. We cheer Barnabas as he vows a slow  revenge on Trask. Impatiently, we also just want him to get on with it, and if you’ve seen the show before, you know that Barnabas’ victory simply sets him up for final defeat worse than any he’s experienced. Of course, the slow burn of a revenge is what the DSU has taught him is appropriate, and we begin to buy it, too. But there’s revenge and there’s cruelty. By turning one into the other, you make yourself vulnerable to even greater suffering. That’s a lesson usually reserved for villains, but in this case, it’s for a hero.

But that day hasn’t come yet. The sun shines on Barnabas and Quentin with a  rare iridescence. Let’s enjoy it. This episode is a very pure pleasure, and Dark Shadows delivers a lot of things, but moments like the ones in this episode are some of the most fleeting.

This episode was broadcast Dec. 31, 1970.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: DECEMBER 31

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1968: Episode 663

Barnabas taunts Forbes with his disembodied voice, avoiding the crossbow bolt completely. He then enslaves him as his vampire master, and forces him to recant his accusations toward Victoria. Meanwhile, Barnabas rediscovers the thirst of his vampirism and, despite his knowledge that it is wrong, attacks a sex worker by the docks. She drowns herself before becoming his victim, and her dead body reappears to Barnabas, much to his shock.

If this were the only episode in the 1796 flashback, it might still be worth it. Within a self-contained story, it is almost a self-contained story, itself. Here, Barnabas truly rewrites history, unloading vampire powers on Forbes and chilling him and audiences with the revelation that there are fates worse than death. It’s near the end of Joel Crothers tenure on DARK SHADOWS -- too soon, of course -- and we are really beginning a hell of a send off with him. Barnabas again struggles with the rediscovered torments of his vampiric nature, and it’s an ambiguity that’s handled alternately with size and subtlety by Jonathan Frid. Laudibly, Dan Curtis is really mastering pulling off grisly or supernatural moments off-camera. So far, he had Barnabas vanish by pushing in on Crothers’ astounded expression and then pulling back out to find Barnabas gone, and now he does the same trick, but with the drowning of Crystal, the dockside sex worker who kills herself rather than become a victim of the vampire. The return of her makes a great button and cliffhanger.

On this day in 1968, a squad of Viet Cong guerrillas attacked the US embassy in Saigon as part of the Tet Offensive.