"A far superior name for a vampire," 1969

DARK SHADOWS is one of those rare, demographic-busting phenomena that comes along once in a generation. How many television shows can claim housewives, college students and monster kids as their fan base? It was a show followed with equal gusto by magazines like Tiger Beat, TV Guide and Famous Monsters of Filmland, which probably presented both challenges and opportunities for ABC's marketing department.

Below are scans (and a transcript) from a 1969 issue of CASTLE OF FRANKENSTEIN detailing the make-up process that transformed actor Jonathan Frid into Barnabas Collins. The feature seems like a little bit of a rush job ... the overall package suggests that the editors weren't yet sure if DARK SHADOWS was fully in their wheelhouse.

DARK SHADOWS
Castle of Frankenstein, #13
Spring, 1969

That 175-year-old Victorian villain, Barnabas Collins, of the afternoon soaper “Dark Shadows,” has been playing a vampire for over a year now, and the ladies love it.

Conducted in a serious “high camp” fashion, “Dark Shadows” is turning into a shrine for Barnabas, a tall, gaunt, sad and soulful character.

It’s a puzzling success story for Yale actor Jonathan Frid who has found himself acting on afternoon TV with two fangs that he pops into place before striking.

The name, Jonathan Frid, is enough to turn the head. It’s a far superior name for a vampire than Barnabas Collins, and if Frid develops his macabre talents, he might make the world of Bela Lugosi and Boris  Karloff.

Time Good 

The time is ripe for a first-class villain in show business. Neville Brand’s powerful leathered face frightened folks as Al Capone, but few others are around to strike a little old-fashioned terror into hearts. Frid looks as if he could play a cultivated monster, giving a good scare. He’s developing his talent in the afternoon before stepping up in class.

“We take Barnabas very seriously,” Frid admits. “The idea was to jazz up the show When I came in.”

The way Frid plays Collins in a polished, witty Victorian style, the viewers develop sympathy for the poor, sick man, rather than turn away in horror. Barnabas’ hangup concerns an old love, Josette, and he’s forever hopeful of finding her. He keeps trying to recreate Josette’s image in a modern girl. The way things are going, Barnabas’s search for Josette seems endless and the fans will put up with the wildest versions. Even director Lela Swift refuses to worry about story inconsistencies knowing the audience will justify the gaps.

“I play Barnabas as a human,” says Frid. “Then, anything do is heightened as a vampire.”

Yaleman Frid has been playing villains since college, as training for the 175-year-old blood lover. Character acting takes seasoning, and Frid didn’t impress Broadway scouts right off the bat in college productions. He hit the road, working in San Diego’s Shakespeare Festival’ touring Ray Milland in “Hostile Witness,” summering at Stratford, Conn.

The part of Collins was experimental and was only supposed to last three weeks. Frid admits to shaky early footing.

“I improved eventually, but at first things were very tenuous.”

Mail has changed the entire situation. Admirers claim he has more sex appeal than Bela Lugosi, and fan clubs are almost, vociferous in ardent-letters. There are also fans who write of other-world contacts.

One remembers meeting Frid back in 1233.

Balmy days are ahead for  Frid, he can do no  wrong, other than lose a hold on his fangs.

“We generally leave time for me to run across the stage and slip my two teeth on,” says Frid. But, not long ago I came into the key shot with them rolling about in my mouth. I feverishly tried to fit them into, place. My victim was in hysterics at the clicking of dentures, but I had to dig in anyway for the coup de grace.”

RUMBLE IN THE PENUMBRA: Joe Dante Vs. Cleveland Amory

Writer Cleveland Amory is best remembered for his work as a champion of animal rights. This is because, as a writer, Cleveland Amory kinda sucked.

The late TV Guide critic was a writer in the Hedda Hopper vein, which would have made him feel very much at home on Internet chatboards. You could spend you life reading this kind of "criticism" and come away knowing nothing about movies and television, how they work, or why we waste our time with them. For these people, "criticism" is all about bitchy, nihilistic wordplay, tarted up in run-on sentences in an attempt to mask feelings of insecurity. Amory's style of writing is the mean girl of criticism.

So, when a camp character like Cleveland Amory came face to face with a DARK SHADOWS, you can imagine things got nasty. In the Feb. 1, 1969, issue of TV Guide, Amory famously ripped the series in a futile attempt to understand its appeal.

"A few weeks ago, when we were down with the flu, we watched the show for a whole week," he wrote, presumably using the majestic plural. "Sick as we were - and were a sick boy - we were, compared with DARK SHADOWS, in the pink. But then a remarkable thing happened. At the end of the week, by which time we had decided that this series was, in our considered judgement, the worst in the history of entertainment, we found that when Saturday came and where was no show, we missed it."

A dare you to go back and count those commas.

Trust me. I smoke a pipe.

"And thus we arrived at a true understanding of the secret of DARK SHADOWS' success," he continued. "The worse it is, the more you'll love it." The rectal wart of a writer goes on to ridicule two children (David Henesy and Denise Nickerson, specifically) before fucking off to the next assignment ... which probably involved funding a clever way to get the word "poo" into a review of SCOOBY DOO. (Note: You can read the entire DARK SHADOWS piece HERE.)

But wait! A champion has emerged to defend the honor of DARK SHADOWS!

And he's brought back-up!

In 1971, two years after Amory 's piece was published in TV Guide, Castle of Frankenstein published a lengthy retort by none other than the future director of GREMLINS, Joe Dante. Still several years away from directing his first feature, HOLLYWOOD BOULEVARD, Dante was a regular contributor to the magazine. His piece on DARK SHADOWS was published around the same time ABC was giving the series the boot, and it appears Dante was still a little pissed at Amory's review.

"TV Guide critic Cleveland Amory (both of him) opined that DARK SHADOWS is the all-time worst presentation 'in the history of entertainment.' This reveals Mr. Amory's lack of familiarity with the subject, since everybody's aware that Bert I. Gordon's VILLAGE OF THE GIANTS is the worst thing in the history of entertainment!"

VILLAGE OF THE GIANTS features a giant, toga-clad Beau Bridges go-go dancing. Just so you know.

"The fact is that DARK SHADOWS, a videotaped daily ABC-TV serial, is an oasis in the wasteland of TV's daytime programmed mental retardation," Dante wrote. Even though we're not supposed to use words like "mental retardation" as an insult these days, I appreciate the sentiment.  Dante's piece isn't built on a foundation of Amory-rage, though, and he mounts a sterling defense of the show on fairly technical levels. He applauds the show's use of color (which was actually a lot more tasteful than the LOOK! COLOR! palettes of other show's of the late 1960s) and argues that Barnabas Collins made a better hero than villain.

"(Jonathan) Frid makes a more persuasive hero than vampire, battling in true Van Helsing style against the various powers of Evil ... (and) manages to imbue the character with some dignity and even depth in the face of what is obviously limited rehearsal time," he wrote. "Despite the occasional mistakes, or maybe because of them, DS is highly enjoyable. The entire cast has been able and often better than the material, and the directors frequently work out some stylish effects and unexpectedly nice touches."

You can read Dante's entire piece HERE.

Ironically, Dante can also be partially blamed for the 2012 DARK SHADOWS film. In 1988, he turned down the offer to direct BATMAN. His reasons were noble: Dante said he identified more with the Joker than Batman, which he worried would handicap the film. Burton apparently felt otherwise and let Jack Nicholson run ramshackle of the production. The film's success elevated Burton's career and put him on the path to Collinwood. But that's OK. I'm not holding any grudges.

Against Joe Dante, anyway.