The Dark Shadows Daybook: March 22

Taped on this date in 1968: Episode 459

By PATRICK McCRAY

In the wake of his mothers suicide, Barnabas Collins vows to take revenge… if his father doesn’t shoot him with a silver bullet, first. Joshua: Louis Edmonds. (Repeat; 30 minutes)

Hearing that his mother is dead because of revelations by Nathan Forbes, Barnabas goes about the business of revenge. Meanwhile, Forbes responds with a crossbow. 

In 1795, the cherished friends and beloved relatives around Barnabas Collins have been dead for years. Barnabas was, too. Until, and you see this coming, he died. This would all be “electrocuting a dead horse” except that this arc mentions the concepts of death and life constantly. When Jonathan Frid delivers the line telling Forbes that bullets will have no effect because he’s already dead, he’s savors the words with unusually deliberate relish. In fact, he is at his most Shakespearean in this episode. Not because of an accent. Not because he stands around posing in tights, using archaic language. No, for legitimate reasons. Listen to his treatment of the really grand statements.  Words are stretched into multisyllabic wrappings over decisions and discoveries of cosmic import.  He’s not only getting the most out of their intentional weight.  He has found the dreadful music of death and revenge and the language that describes them.

We take death for granted on Dark Shadows. In 1795, it’s not just a consequence. It is the subject of philosophical heft without weighing the audience down with ascetic and academic self-consciousness about it. Death is both a metaphor and a very real state of being. For once, it has, by explored implication, been given proper attention… and by implication so has a meaningful life. We stand on the battlefield of fallen characters who have no voice. Well, except for one.

By finally standing outside of Life, there are no more appearances to keep up. Really, all of the rules of the living are what cost Barnabas his life. Was he in love with Josette? Perhaps social class taboos and a marriage prospect with a business prospect chaser kept him from confessing his true feelings, even to himself. I don’t call that living. 

The fact that Barnabas walks and speaks and feels is all of the proof we need that, on this program, death simply releases a cursed figure to explore living. Joshua, on the other hand, is a prisoner to expectations. His need to appear in control is so pervasive and toxic that it takes being in the throes of death for his wife to say she still loves him. 

Of course, the real journey of the storyline belongs to Joshua, reluctantly exploring and admitting the moments of humanity forbidden to him otherwise. It’s unclear how Joshua became so incredibly stoic, but I will guess that life at sea, having to coexist among pirates and slavers, changes a man. His charting of an underdeveloped sense of humanity exists less on the page, and so Louis Edmonds must be lavishly praised for his efforts to do so. In theory, it’s a broad part. Shouting. Taking umbrage.  Being at a loss for words on a nearly hourly basis. You know, those things are easy. They are a puckish southerner’s spoof of New England finery.  Underneath that is a keenly focused, gently urged character evolution. Frankly, if the actions of Angelique could not bring that about, the character would lack humanity, completely.

More than anywhere else, we see the effects of the curse. Exactly what she said: those he loved would die. But why make him a vampire at the same time? Of course, so that he could be the cause.  The triple somersault of irony being that, outside of the domain of the living, subsisting by the ethics and standards of the dead, Barnabas would eventually live to a point that he realized he loved Angelique. And that’s the one part of the curse that, in 1840, she forgot to lift. This isn’t a soap opera. It’s Shakespeare writing a Greek tragedy commissioned by Rod Serling. 

On a technical level, it’s not a soap opera either. An episode like this is the payoff that we somehow knew was possible while making our way through often hundreds of episodes of semi-repeated exposition with a sidecar of looming implication. Every time Dark Shadows has an episode like that, it carries with it an implicit promise for something more. This episode is as tight and propulsive as anything written for prime time. Frid, Edmonds, Joel Crothers, and Thayer David glide through the action with equal parts passion and confidence. There has never been better chemistry on the program than with Jonathan Frid and Louis Edmonds as Barnabas and Joshua. Opening with the immediate fallout from Naomi‘s suicide, and with the ticking clocks of Victoria's fate and the oncoming sunrise, it manages to go about solving its problems (and inventing new ones) with purposeful urgency that never devolves into sloppiness or panic. It’s too busy addressing the problems of the living with the insight of the dead.

This episode was broadcast March 28, 1968.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: March 28

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this day in 1969: Episode 725

A lugubrious luau breaks out at Collinwood! When Quentin’s a zombie, Jamison is Quentin, and Trask is back, will Barnabas say aloha? Gregory Trask: Jerry Lacy. (Repeat; 30 min.)

As Quentin continues to both inhabit Jamison’s body and writhe around in a graveyard, Gregory Trask arrives to recruit Jamison. He sets about conducting an excruciating exorcism as Barnabas looks on, helpless to stop the craven clergyman.

Enter Gregory Trask.

This is where the 1897 storyline kind of runs off the rails... now and then. Like the 1795 storyline, 1897 contains more filler upon actual viewings than in memory. Yes, Trask's a great villain, and there are volumes to say about Clan Trask, but that's counterbalanced by long patches of episodes that take up so much time, it makes me wonder if the character had dirt on Dan Curtis.

But I'm obligated to like the Trasks in their steadfastness as Collins antagonists. I'm about a decade behind on my Big Finish listening, but have they done much with the Trask family per se? That's the parallel story to the Collins chronicles. It's interesting to ponder the DS story from their perspective. A Lovecraftian hotbed of aristocratic menace!

"Yeah, Greg, you gotta go see what's happening at that house they walled up your gramps in. You know, where your dad disappeared. Well, okay, the OTHER house on the estate. You know, they have a vampire up there. And a witch. That's fine, but around kids? Quentin's back. Carl's still dating showgirls. They're hiring all of your ex-employees. Oh, and Quentin's now in the kid's body. No, not like that. Well, after he had the boy almost desecrate the corpse of Gabriel's old widow, all bets were off. Where's Quentin? He's a zombie. Maybe it has to do with all the gypsies they're harboring. Yeah, it's a real normal house up there. You know, your dad built a mortuary out of nothing and did pro bono work as an attorney. Your granddad came to this godforsaken town when the Collins family was keeping occultists on the payroll. Maybe it was to help the syphilitic sailor they thought was a dandy marriage prospect. He was married, but did that matter to them? No. Hell, they were marrying off their sons to island girls that the uncle would sleep with on his own. Now Greg, you're an educator and a pastor. They have two kids up there, looked after by some trampy maid. Kids, Greg. Yeah, they're half gypsy, but let's let that go. Their mom? They locked her up in a tower because that's how they treat the sick. She's running around with a knife, and do they call the cops? Of course not. I say it's self-defense. You have to help that poor woman. Help the kids, too."

Inaccurate, but the truth usually is.

Meanwhile, back in reality, Barnabas is having a hell of a night. Judith, the voice of reason, has Jamison locked up in the drawing room and screaming. She thinks nothing odd about him being alone in the room with a grown man who keeps sticking his head out and saying, "Not yet. Give me just a few more minutes," before ducking back in for more terrified cries of fear and pain.

Fortunately, Barnabas comes from an age of advanced and sophisticated corporal child rearing. If any character in literature is capable of dealing with the middle ground between modern common sense and old school, birch branch pedagogy, it's the man who did wonders with Willie Loomis by way of his instructive cane.

This is what makes Quentin look civilized.

It's the fourth anniversary of the Daybook, written as my third week in corona captivity begins. I got into all of this eight years ago due to nearly two months of self-imposed isolation as I watched all of Dark Shadows in just a few weeks. If anything, this all feels strangely familiar. My only advice, since you insisted, is to keep Dark Shadows on at all times. I mean it. They are the much-needed set of extra voices, rooms, and locations desperately required right now.

They are home. And their home is ours. Be well.

This episode hit the airwaves on April 4, 1969.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: March 28

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1968: Episode 463

Vicki and Elizabeth find Peter’s grave, establishing that he died shortly after she left 1796. Later, they buy a painting that, to Barnabas’ horror, is Angelique! Under increased pressure, Barnabas summons Carolyn from a date with Tony, ruining it even further. Tony misinterprets Barnabas’ mouth on Carolyn and assumes they’re dating. Carolyn, humiliated, begs Barnabas for her freedom. He dismisses her and tries to burn the painting of Angelique. With the sound of her laughter ringing overhead, Angelique’s painting reassembles itself.

There are just some days when you can’t get rid of a portrait of Angelique. If I were Barnabas, I’d cover the doormat with the painting and watch it repel dirt, stains, and pet odors with its supernatural resilience. Just line a trash can with it. Anything you throw on it is going to vanish as it recycles itself. If Angelique had patented this, it would have been the marvel of the age. She would have had her pick of the gents.

463 is a marvelous place to start the series. Thus far, this has been all about ghosts (or their equivalents) recreating the past, culminating in 1795. Now, we enter a new frontier of nuttiness as agents of the past arrive and take action as new immigrants to the future. They’re building forward more than redressing yesterday. When Barnabas arrives 1967, he just wants his house and engagement back as they were. Now, this is no longer the case with ambassadors from the past. By 1968, not only does Angelique want Barnabas back (or to punish him… or both) but she wants to take over Collinwood and create a master race with Nicholas. This is what makes this phase of the series so unusually exciting. They’ve established the major players. We’ve seen the rituals that made them who they are. Now, free, they can and do anything. Because the Maggie kidnapping/Barnabas aging/1795 arc is at the front of the syndication package, I feel like that’s where DS starts and stops for most people. But for me? This is where the adventure begins.

Jonathan Frid really has painting-slashing fun in this one. He plays such an ideal hero because Barnabas’ bloody and thunderous ways are consistently applied for heroism as well as villainy. Heroes expect to be thwarted. Not heavies. When that happens, the stakes couldn’t be higher. Jerry Lacy and Nancy Barrett continue to show themselves as some of the show’s finest actors today. Close your eyes. Trask and Millicent should not come to mind. That, AND they show a delightful chemistry that will go nowhere because Tony is just an attorney and not a man-made man nor Lovecraftian snake god.

On this day in 2016, the first Dark Shadows Daybook hit the internet. Thanks for reading and sticking with it.

The Dark Shadows Daybook: March 28

By PATRICK McCRAY

Taped on this date in 1969: Episode 725

Quentin is still a zombie, Jamison is still possessed, and Barnabas is still trying to straighten it all out. Rescuing him from the cusp of an open grave, Barnabas attempts an occult ceremony to cure Quentin, but fails. Meanwhile, Reverend Gregory Trask arrives from the Worthington Hall school, eager to add Jamison and Nora to his roster. Judith resists, but is fascinated. Obsequious to the core, Trask insists on performing his own exorcism, but wants Barnabas nowhere near. Barnabas has no choice but to agree.

So much of art is about saying no. It’s neat, tidy, selective, and disciplined. And then there is Jack Davis. MAD Magazine artist extraordinaire, Davis was the genius behind film posters for movies like ANIMAL HOUSE and AMERICAN GRAFFITI. Big collections of far too many characters chasing each other around with zany abandon. Yes. Exactly. Roger Ebert said that BEYOND THE VALLEY OF THE DOLLS is like a Jack Davis poster, and he was right. So is DARK SHADOWS 1897. It’s an orgy of ‘yes.’ What more can be thrown in when you have a zombie Quentin and a possessed Jamison? Why not a Trask? But one with a libido! Yes, yes, and again, yes. The joy of a moment like the introduction of Gregory Trask is that, with an imagined laugh track, it turns DARK SHADOWS a sitcom as Barnabas rolls his eyes at yet another, cosmically inevitable impediment. Barnabas? Just wait for Petofi.

On this day in 1969, Dwight D. Eisenhower died. Despite ruling over the fifties, President and General Eisenhower was no mindless conformist, and wisely warned us against the rise of the military-industrial complex. Not sure anyone listened.