The Dark Shadows Daybook: January 23

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1968: Episode 416

In the wake of Sara‘s death, Barnabas Collins has one more life to eliminate: his own. Joshua: Louis Edmonds. (Repeat; 30 minutes)

Desperate for an answer to his daughters death, Joshua confronts Victoria, who admits to being from the future. Her statement falls on deaf ears. Barnabas, aware of the engine of suffering he has become, instructs Ben to destroy him.

I don’t think it’s any big secret that the Dark Shadows scripts didn’t really demand much of Louis Edmonds. You can’t say that he’s a lazy actor by any means. He has a bag of tricks that the writers clearly enjoy, because they largely restrict his choices to those. But there are times when it’s clear that they sit back and remember why he was hired. This is one of those times.

It’s an episode that defines the hope of death while immersed in the torment it creates for the living. The beauty of a show like Dark Shadows is that it’s luxurious and expansive running time allows it to focus on rituals like death with a length and depth that only real life can match. Not only is Sarah dead, but we feel as if we have spent several days morning for her.  And while Naomi slips into drinking and open acceptance, Joshua, stripped of control, seeks the very thing he has lost. At this point, the only control left is blame. It’s a painfully pathetic attempt. He attacks Vicki. Vicki comes out of the closet as a time traveler. And for just a flash you know that he believes her. It makes as much sense as anything, if not more. But believing her means blaming someone else. And his mind simply cannot brook another mystery.

Watching Edmonds in this episode is a bit like watching Zeus at his full wrath. From what I understand, Edmonds was a happy and ebullient man. Don’t trust it. The merriest among us, and I’m sure this won’t come as a shock, are the most rife with secret pain.  I don’t need a tell-all to reveal that. The power and truth and pain and fury that he displays in this episode is too controlled and too authentic to be reflective of the imagination. I don’t know what dark, inner horror Edmonds saw when he looked at the words of the script, but he summons something bordering on the alchemical. Far from histrionic, this is simply real. It’s even subtle and modulated, somewhere between a man performing an exorcism and winning a bet over whether or not he can act.

He can. He can act anyone off that soundstage.

There’s a lot in 1795 that just kind of sits there. It can be interminable. And at the same time, it contains the show at its rawest. This episode is its most painful study in survivors remorse. Barnabas, in death, finds himself more alive than ever. Reduced to the means of evil to survive, he discovers a depth of responsible morality that would shame a saint; the only thing that stops him from using his curse to hornswoggle the local yokels into assuming that he is also the occult source of their ills is his mother. Barnabas has lived out the fantasy of seeing his own funeral, and sees it for the nightmare it is. His mother is suffering it all over again, trapped in the unnatural fever dream of burying her second child in weeks. Were Barnabas to reveal himself and take the fall, it would force her to live that fate for a third time. 

As Louis Edmonds explores the peaks of the landscape of sorrow, Jonathan Frid and Thayer David plunge down to the blistering mantle of remorse. How many times must Barnabas hear that Ben is his friend before he believes it? And how many times does Ben need to hear his master beg for just one, single yes before he can let go?

As much as Barnabas is a hero for trying to eliminate himself from Collinsport’s suffering, the plight of Ben Stokes is even more profound.  He is incapable of seeing anything but the friend within. Every day brings a new truth and a new terror for him. But in the face of the questionable motives of so many others in 1795, his is pure. In many ways, he is one of the two greatest loves Barnabas Collins will ever know and never accept. And he could very well go to his grave knowing no other. 

In fact, I guarantee it.

This episode hit the airwaves Jan. 29, 1968.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: JANUARY 23

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1970: Episode 948

Barnabas begins his war on the Leviathans by reaching through time and death to the woman he loves. Philip Todd: Christopher Bernau. (Repeat; 30 min.)

Via a seance, Barnabas verifies that Josette’s ghost is not a hostage to the Leviathans. She gives him back his engagement ring and permits him to move on. Free to wage total war on the cult, Barnabas recruits Philip, but Jeb apprehends him as he attempts to steal the Naga Box.

Well, it makes an astounding amount of emotionally mature sense, but I still didn’t see that coming. I should have, and by not doing so, I underestimated the writers and the basic needs of soap operas. Kathryn Leigh Scott had not played a viable romantic interest for Barnabas since early 1968, so they might as well free him up. The Josette relationship was a closed system, with her dying several times, and how often do you come back from that? Exactly.

Barnabas’ fit of guilt that triggers the Josette seance is long overdue. After seeing him at the height of his powers and emotional security in 1897, he’s not exactly in for a fall, but that doesn’t mean he’s escaping that old devil, denial. In 1897, yes, we see him as confident, kind, and vaguely ethical. Yes, he’s all of those things, but he’s all of those things with a lot of baggage, and that’s not nearly as healthy as being at a place of Zen without them. His Leviathan flirtation with villainy gives him one final burst of reflective truthfulness, perhaps about what he’s always capable of without vigilance. One key element of truth that eludes him again and again is the whole Josette Thing. It’s easy to understand the quantity of guilt at work, because he’s betrayed Angelique, he’s betrayed Josette, and he’s betrayed his own feelings. Understandably. He didn’t just do it because he was kicking around the docks and needed a new hobby. More importantly, he didn’t do it to cause intentional harm. As much as anything, Barnabas is a victim to the complexity of life; it’s high time that Josette acted her elapsed, undead age and addressed it. Someone has to be the adult around here. Donna Wandrey’s groceries aren’t going to pay for themselves. And it’s high time for the rating spike concomitant with Barnabas going back on the market. Josette is a surrogate for millions of fans with a crush, and while” star-crossed lovers” is one thing, Josette has gone beyond being a tease. She’s Maggie, then not. Maybe she’s Vicki? Nope. Vicki is Vicki. How about Rachel Drummond? Or Kitty Soames? Or that lamp?

At a certain point, she’s the best pal’s ex-girlfriend from hell. She shows up, kind of, after ruining things last time. But not. Because she “loves him” or something. Whenever she shows up, you know it’s going to slow everything down AND go nowhere. She does all that she can short of forbidding Barnabas from playing Deadlands with Quentin and Julia on Saturdays at the Blue Whale. And would will he be doing, instead? Probably watching something like Westworld with “their” friends -- you know, “couples’ time” -- and very pointedly NOT inviting Quentin over, too. Which is dumb, because Josette’s friends Henri and Chloe from Avignon are total posers who still think homemade hummus is a big deal and sigh audibly when Quentin wants to play something, anything, other than Pandemic for the millionth time. And the whole thing is even dumber, because you know -- you just know -- that Josette’s just going to vanish into a painting or drink poison again before Barnabas even finishes the second season of Westworld. And we all know that she knows it. Everybody knows it except for Barnabas. Good thing he doesn’t really like the show after the first season, anyway, but it’s the principle. (It’s because they took out “the good stuff,” but he can never say that around Josette because it’ll lead to a lecture. You forward the wrong Triumph the Insult Comic Dog clip from Roger, and it’s the end of the world for some people.) And Henri and Chloe keep encouraging the relationship while totally dissing Quentin. They pretend to be indifferent, but it’s clear they think ill of him because he dared bring over a cocktail waitress from Logansport once who said she didn’t get Monty Python as much as her brother. Well, so what?

Say what you will, but Angelique doesn’t pull that stuff. I mean, she’s bad news, but she’s loyal, in her own way. It must be kind of a relief that Angelique, rather than Josette, shows up in 1840. At least she’s consistent. And she likes Quentin, too. And Quentin I. Har-har. She knows he’s single, and she remembers what it’s like.

It takes a Leviathan non-kidnapping for everyone to admit that this is getting out of hand.

This episode was broadcast Feb. 11, 1970.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: January 23

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1968: Episode 416

Joshua returns to the new Collinwood in the wee hours to find Naomi, who informs him that Sarah has died in accord with Vicki’s prophecy. Visiting her in jail, Joshua rejects Vicki’s explanation that she is from the future, as is her knowledge. Later, Ben visits Barnabas in the mausoleum to describe Sarah’s funeral. Barnabas has heard his parents express genuine  compassion at the death of his sister, and is moved to agony. After pondering his options, Barnabas asks Ben to ready a stake and end his existence.

1795 is such quintessential DARK SHADOWS, but that doesn’t make it comfortable to watch.  It is nonetheless deeply fulfilling. An episode like this is the show at its most essential and primal. Let’s face it, even on an ensemble show, Barnabas is the protagonist. Although crucial things happen to him in other storylines, no other arc is his quite like this one. And there are few episodes in it that show such vital moments and decisions as poignantly. We may not know Vicki’s outcome, but we know Barnabas’. Still, the conviction with which the writing and acting is aflame is so intense, it’s easy to believe that we are seeing Barnabas’ best moments. Speaking of best moments of sheer drama, both Joan Bennett and Louis Edmonds are at their finest. Both Naomi and Joshua find strength through the appearances they carefully maintain for others -- even each other. To see those break down is just heartbreaking.

Notable on this day in 1968 was the capture of the USS Pueblo. It was a spy ship with a complement of 83 found in the Sea of Japan by North Korea.