The Dark Shadows Daybook: June 27

Episode 1, Taped on June 11 & 13, 1966

When Victoria Winters abandons life in New York for a small fishing village in Maine, she finds the beginning and the end of the world. Victoria Winters: Alexandra Moltke. (Repeat. 30 min.)

Quick, operating definitions… “story” is the overall tale, including backstory and exposition. “Plot” is the sequence of events seen by the audience in a given presentation.

Since most viewers begin the show around episode 212, with the release of Jonathan Frid’s Barnabas into 1967, the idea of “first episode of Dark Shadows” is more academic than it might seem. Technically, “1” is indeed the first. However, while it may be where the plot begins, the story of the series has been going on for at least 18 years, with the relevant modern action beginning with the murder of Paul Stoddard. But is even that the first major event? Not quite. The story of this series begins in 1946 with the birth of Victoria Winters, whose abandonment creates the first, true, chronologically-correct mystery to contemplate. But neither of those storylines amounts to a hill of bones for the majority of audiences, since the series has moved on by the time Barnabas appears. And yet, the have value, both literally and metaphorically.

Thanks to syndication and the salad bar nature of audience-selected watching, the series begins wherever we, as individuals, want it to. Many who began in the Leviathan era simply continued back at the “beginning,” whether with 1 or 212, and as far as they are concerned, it keeps going after 1245 with episode 1. This makes Dark Shadows unique among serialized television because it’s a Moebius strip. Begin where you want. Stop where you want. The plots always fit into a larger story, and one that I hope will never be fully told.

In this sense, 1245 and 1 exist both at opposite ends of the series and as neighbors. They are bookends, yes, and they occupy the same space. Watching them together draws the series into one of the few perspectives not usually thought of, and while the plot may not be contiguous, the theme is. Important to qualify that because, yes, technically, one takes place in a parallel universe. But when the difference is 131 years anyway, I’m not sure that’s germaine. Last week often feels like a parallel universe. Primary Time or Parallel, it’s still Dark Shadows, and looking at the two literally defines the parameters of what that means.

In episode 1, a highly isolated Liz squabbles with an unusually repressed Roger over the impending arrival of a new governess. Said governess, Victoria, arrives on an evening train amidst a flashback. In it (and another), we learn that the mature orphan was hired by Elizabeth, a woman she’s never met. With no key to her past and no real path to the future, Victoria sees this as her way both out of and in to her destiny. Brooding businessman, Burke Devlin, reluctantly ushers her into the inn where both he and waitress Maggie Evans are unsuccessful in dissuading the strangely, forlornly plucky Victoria into abandoning the new job. She arrives and is greeted by Liz as the credits roll.



In episode 1245, Bramwell and Catherine survive their night in the haunted lottery room, but not before Catherine stops the ghost of Brutus from choking Bramwell, which she does by refusing to join the specter in, yes, a bizarre act of unnatural love. Morgan awaits outside, and as dawn breaks, he shoots Bramwell and carries Catherine onto the roof. There, Kendrick tussles with Morgan until the madman falls to his death. A wounded Bramwell comforts Catherine. Across the estate, a revived Melanie is rejoined with Kendrick, and the two couples celebrate having survived the last curse (of many) at Collinwood.

The differences are obvious. Both take place in vastly different time periods, literally, and by 1245, the Bryl Cream, beehives, and black & white are distant memories. Both are intense, but one is a Pirandelloesque study in existential angst and the other is a truly Gothic ghost story where love defeats the anguish of the past. Episode 1 begins just past sunset, and episode 1245 arrives with the rise of the sun.

Still, this blend of storytelling chalk and cheese both involve the same message: Collinwood (and whatever it represents) has no future unless it opens its doors. Both Collinwoods (1841 PT and 1966) are dying. Both Collinwoods are cages to trap the sins of yesterday… and their witnesses. Both Collinwoods find the eventual path to the future by embracing newcomers. Both Catherine and Victoria are of Collinwood and apart from it, and both are outsiders whose brave examples reveal the home as a place for the living more than the dead. Each is haunted (in one form or another) by the ghosts of husbands (Brutus and Paul) whose marriages gave way to disaster. By opening their fortress of aristocracy to strangers, despite its secrets (or perhaps because of them), the Collinses save themselves after decades of standing apart. They illustrate and outmaneuver the definition of insanity by, at last, trying something different.

June 27 falls at the end of Pride Month and one day before the anniversary of the Stonewall uprising. Concomitantly, Dark Shadows is cited as a place where outsiders find a haven. Which it is, but not necessarily on the surface. When looked at character-by-character, most of the outsiders are seeking a “cure” to be “normal,” a disastrous assertion. This makes the show’s sense of inclusiveness seem inarguably problematic. And yet, it’s still a tribute to inclusiveness down to its storytelling DNA.

To the outside world, Collinwood, itself, is self-alienated from any kind of healthy, normal home. It is obsessed with guilt over crimes that were all ultimately explainable. Crimes with context. Crimes that, in some ways, were not crimes. Brutus was not justified in his wrath, and perhaps Liz was. In the light of Paul’s subsequent and cruel manipulation-by-silence, he is clearly worthy of disdain. Maybe not a fireplace poker’s worth, but disdain, nonetheless. If this were a true crime, Liz would not have been forgiven by the series.  But she is. Her journey begins here, by letting in someone new. And that fact that Vicki is never revealed as her daughter makes that governess an outsider as much as Catherine Harridge. Outsiders who change that small world by asking the right questions when they don’t understand and taking decisive action against tradition when they do and when others simply accept the status quo.

Yes, microcosmically, Dark Shadows may seem to be about outsiders pursuing cures so that they may be welcomed inside. Reconsidered from a larger vantage, Dark Shadows actually reverses this. It shows an establishment saving itself by opening its doors to those who thrive outside them.

Yes, the beginning and the end of the world -- that refuses to end.

This episode hit the airwaves June 27, 1966.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: July 27

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1966: Episode 33

Carolyn is shocked when Liz says that David will stay at Collinwood while stating that she’s eager for Carolyn to get married and move away. Meanwhile, a drunken Joe paints the town red, threatening Burke, rejecting his offer of business sponsorship. As Vicki readies to leave Collinsport, an even-drunker Joe enters, asking to see Carolyn. She comes downstairs, and Joe gathers everyone in the drawing room. Joe excoriates Liz for warping Carolyn, claiming she’s turned her daughter into a spinster. Carolyn, he says, is too scared to marry him. He blames Liz and staggers to the couch, warning Vicki that Collinwood’s a prison. He then passes out. Carolyn tries to reassure Liz that nothing he said was true.

Just when I want to sit here on my Tempur-Pedic futon throne and pontificate about how dull the pre-Barnabas storyline was, here comes an episode to kick me in my self-satisfied caboose. Each scene crackles with the truths no one had been brave enough to say. At the core? Yes, Joan Bennett, Mitchell Ryan, and Nancy Barrett are the gold standards in acting on the program in this episode, but Joel Crothers is an absolute rocket among rockets. Until he played Nathan Forbes, Crothers languished thanklessly as a sane, normative character. It’s thanks to the slow-burning soap format that he finally gets his turn. Drunk men tell no lies, and never has this been truer than on DARK SHADOWS. Playing drunk is so often an excuse for bad actors to exaggerate, generalize, and let overblown gestures and slurred deliveries do the work. Not so with Crothers. This is one of the most intelligent actors I’ve seen, and he uses the license of Joe’s drunkenness to express what the show has needed to say about the denizens of Collinwood since the first frame. The precision of his choices is microsurgical, but it’s far from a cold and calculating reading. He fuses that marvelously insightful text work with a heartfelt connection to his fellow actors. I have no choice but to love him as an actor as well as the character he unforgettably portrays. Moral centers are such pains in the neck. Not in this case. Crothers and Joe are voices from the heart. Joel Crothers adamantly establishes that -- despite future window-dressing of the supernatural -- this show was, is, and will always be about decent, fundamental humanity. It’s theatre’s job to remind us of those things. That’s what acting is all about, and there’s no finer ambassador to the art than Joel Crothers.

Oh, and keep your eyes peeled for Harvey Keitel in this episode at the Blue Whale. I’m telling you, that kid has a future.

On this date in 1966, liquor was served for the first time in Mississippi in 58 years, thus ending Prohibition for good. Kind of appropriate for today’s episode. Bottoms up!

The Dark Shadows Daybook: JULY 27

By PATRICK McCRAY

July 27, 1966
Taped on this date: Episode 33

Carolyn finds her mother in darkness, and is filled in on David’s patricidal antics, predicting the problems will never end. They should leave the matters to be within the family. Carolyn thinks Burke is owed an apology, now seeing David a bit more like Roger does. Meanwhile, Joe drinks it up too much and stews in class envy when Burke joins him. Joe unloads on Burke and warns him away from Carolyn. Burke calms him down and finds out the Joe’s business partner with whom he was buying a boat is pulling out to have a baby. Burke reiterates his financial offer and says that marriage isn’t always the way. At the same time, Liz is eager for Carolyn to get married and flee Collinwood. Meanwhile, she shocks her daughter by saying that David will stay at Collinwood to heal. Upstairs, Carolyn finds Vicki investigating her past and wishes she could do the same. Vicki asks if she can borrow her car, and she says of course. Her worst fear for Burke is dragging him into the family. At the bar, Joe laments something similar. Joe tries to drink more, and Burke tries to cut him off. Joe leaves, awash in self-recrimination. As Vicki readies to leave Collinsport, a drunken Joe enters, asking to see Carolyn. She comes downstairs, and Joe gathers everyone in the drawing room. Joe excoriates Liz for warping Carolyn, claiming she’s turned her daughter into a spinster. Carolyn, he says, is too scared to marry Joe. He blames Liz and staggers to the couch, warning Vicki that Collinwood’s a prison. But Joe is trapped by his love. He then passes out. Carolyn tries to reassure Liz that nothing he said was true. Meanwhile at the Blue Whale, Vicki meets Burke.

Just when I want to sit here on my Tempur-Pedic futon throne and pontificate about how dull the pre-Barnabas storyline was, here comes an episode to kick me in my self-satisfied caboose. Each scene crackles with the truths no one had been brave enough to say. At the core? Yes, Joan Bennett and Nancy Barrett are gold standards in acting, but Joel Crothers is an absolute rocket.

Until he played Nathan Forbes, Crothers languished thanklessly as a sane, normative character. It’s thanks to the slow-burning soap format that he finally gets his turn. Drunk men tell no lies, and never has this been truer on DARK SHADOWS. Playing drunk is so often an excuse for bad actors to exaggerate, generalize, and let overblown gestures and slurred deliveries do the work. Not so with Crothers. This is one of the most intelligent actors I’ve seen, and he uses the license of Joe’s drunkenness to express what the show has needed to say about the denizens of Collinwood since the first frame. The precision of his choices is microsurgical, but it’s far from a cold and calculating reading. He fuses that marvelously insightful text work with a heartfelt connection to his fellow actors. I have no choice but to love him as an actor as well as the character he unforgettably portrays. Moral centers are such pains in the neck. Not in this case. Crothers and Joe are voices from the heart. Joel Crothers adamantly establishes that -- despite future window-dressing of the supernatural -- this show was, is, and will always be about decent, fundamental humanity. It’s theatre’s job to remind us of those things. That’s what acting is all about, and there’s no finer ambassador to the art than Joel Crothers.

Oh, and keep your eyes peeled for Harvey Keitel in this one. I’m telling you, that kid has a future.

(Episode 23 airs on this date.)

July 27, 1970
Taped on this date: Episode 1072

Back in present time, Quentin shows Barnabas that the playroom is but a linen closet. But when they leave, the playroom reappears. Barnabas feels that Daphne’s ghost would help him. Downstairs, he hears Carolyn crying, and ponders her mourning for Jeb. She asks about Jeb’s PT double, Cyrus. He changes the subject to Rose Cottage and the phrase “the night of the sun and the moon.” That night, Hallie visits David with a sense of impending dread. She was eavesdropping on Barnabas explaining impending disaster. She feels watched, and on cue, Barnabas enters. Is she afraid of him?  No, she says, just different. Alone with David, he again asks of Rose Cottage and gets no answer. Downstairs, Stokes arrives. Barnabas explains his PT adventure to Stokes as we transition upstairs. Carolyn, hearing ghost noises, is anxious to send the kids to bed. Hallie hears the sounds, David says it’s in their imaginations, and the sounds stop. Downstairs, Stokes asks about the ghosts of 1995. There, Quentin denied that the ghost was David. Barnabas asks Stokes to cancel his trip to Europe… that’s where he’ll be when disaster strikes]. But Stokes has no such plans. His niece? High strung. Sensitive to the supernatural. But taking her away would alarm Liz. Eliot and Barnabas must work closely on this. Carolyn comes downstairs and reports having felt watched. That night, David dreams of the carousel, now in the foyer. Hallie appears silently, in 1800’s garb. She dances and ignores David until she vanishes. David awakens after discovering the carousel is missing. Meanwhile, Hallie finds the dress from David’s dream on her bed.

I take your hand.

“It’s okay.  Statistically, and by that, I mean statistics that I made up from guesses, this may be your least favorite part of the show.  I understand that you feel that way, and I believe that you believe that, wholeheartedly. We’re going to try an exercise. Just a game. Imagine that you have a pair of glasses that let you see this as one of the best parts of the show. And you can take those glasses off at any time. But for now, let’s put them on.

“We’ve heard the allegro. Now it’s time for the sonata. It builds like a symphony. With the glasses on, tell me why this is such a marvelous part. I’ll take notes. Okay, fast pace. Treats you with intelligence. Sense of impending doom that Barnabas must fight. And it’s cyclical? In what way? Oh… the show repeats storylines, but adding something newer and richer each time. And the new ghosts? Conflicted and malevolent?

“Okay, take the glasses off. Not so hard now, was it? What do you mean I’m a condescending schmuck?”

Hey, whatever it takes.

(Episode 1066 airs on this date.)