The audience soon learns that death has done little to change Quentin Collins. The living Quentin is self-centered and hot-tempered, a hard drinker, a heartbreaker, and, occasionally, an out-and-out bastard. But the women and girls of America loved him, just as they had responded to Jonathan Frid.
Barnabas had become a vampire through nothing more than sheer bad luck. But when the curse of the werewolf descends upon Quentin, it is entirely his own fault.
Quentin had married Jenny (Marie Wallace), but his roving eye quickly discovered his brother’s wife Laura, and they ran off to Egypt. Unknown to Quentin, Jenny was pregnant. Driven mad by her husband’s philandering, she was declared an unfit mother for their twins - a son and daughter. Supposedly because of Jenny’s insanity, the babies were spirited away from Collinwood. And Jenny was confined to the infamous tower room.
When Quentin returns to Collinwood, he takes up where he left off with another of his amours, the Collins’ maidservant Beth Chavez. Jenny eventually escapes her prison and witnesses her husband’s play for his girlfriend. In a struggle, Quentin accidentally chokes Jenny to death.
It is revealed that Jenny was the sister of the Gypsy witch Magda, who not only mourns her younger sister’s death but also is determined to avenge it. With the power of hundreds of years of Gypsy lore behind her, Magda levies a curse on Quentin and all his male descendents. Quentin begs Magda to tell his future and Magda assures him that “you have no future!”
However, Magda hadn’t known about Jenny’s children. And the daughter, Lenore (also Quentin’s daughter), will be Chris Jennings’ great-grandmother. So all-knowing Magda unknowingly curses her own descendants with the mark of the werewolf.
The 19th century plot allowed one storyline that never happened in the present: the vampire hunt. Barnabas’ secret is exposed. Led by Edward, the family disowns Barnabas and determines to destroy him. Barnabas is equally determined to learn the secrets of the past to save the Collins family in the future.
This was the plot twist that finally gave Jonathan Frid a month’s vacation. With Quentin’s popularity in full bloom and Selby able to carry the show in Frid’s absence, the producers granted Jonathan’s request by creating a storyline that very nearly triggered a riot. If it taught them nothing else, it taught the production staff of Dark Shadows to take very seriously the devoted attention of their audience.
The vampire hunt included the unprecedented step of stakingBarnabas on camera, gore and all, and letting the viewers believe that their vampire hero was at last truly dead.
The telephone switchboards were inundated by outraged viewers, blocking other incoming calls all day long and well into the night.
Does Barnabas still exist in a parallel universe somewhere? Or is he still alive? For one month Barnabas becomes Schrodinger’s Vampire, not officially dead yet not certifiably alive. During the following four weeks, the writers shamelessly tease the viewers: perhaps Barnabas isn’t dead—or if he is, his ghost may return.
Of course he isn’t really dead—it isn’t really Barnabas who was staked but a doppelganger. Frid enjoyed a much needed vacation, and his terrified fans spent four weeks waiting. The suspense also gave Dark Shadows its highest ratings ever during the week Barnabas returned.
Frid found the “new” Barnabas more challenging. “Many people say that after you’ve been doing one character for more than three years, your approach to it is no longer fresh. Well, we don’t have that problem on Dark Shadows because the constant time changes give novelty to the roles. There are different sets, new costumes, the whole atmosphere always changes.”
To keep the plot moving during Barnabas’ brief absence, the writers dipped back into their “horror theme Rolodex.” A recently introduced character, Count Andreas Petofi (Thayer David), is a powerful and highly eccentric sorcerer based on Count St. Germaine, a medieval alchemist who claimed to have attained the secret of immortality.
Count Petofi’s power is centered in his hand, which had been severed from its wrist by gypsies a century ago as revenge against the count’s murder of one of their own. The hand had been busily traveling the world in its own little casket, as a sort of Monkey’s Paw device. People would occasionally have their dearest wishes granted through its power, but most often it caused trouble wherever it went.
To be fair, the count did have his reasons for being a bit grumpy. Long ago, while suffering the curse of the werewolf, he had killed the only thing he had ever really cared about—his pet unicorn, the last one alive, leaving him mourning permanently. To his credit Andreas owed no allegiance to the devil. He puts it succinctly: “I have but one god, and his name is Petofi.”
The count is eventually reunited with his hand. At about the same time, for his own nefarious reasons, he devises a cure for Quentin’s lycanthropy.
This “cure” plot cribbed Oscar Wilde’s classic, The Picture of Dorian Gray. The count arranges for Quentin’s portrait to be painted. Therefore, it is the portrait that conveniently changes to a painting of a werewolf each full moon, leaving Quentin free to follow more worldly pursuits. The portrait also has one nice side benefit - immortality. As the years go by the portrait ages but Quentin remains eternally young.
Count Petofi, no altruist, intends to transfer his mind into Quentin’s young, handsome body. He is foiled in this attempt and apparently destroyed. But the writers left the door open for his possible return.
During the lengthy 1897 sequence, many actors played more than one role. Thayer David was both Sandor the Gypsy and Count Petofi; Grayson Hall, Magda and Julia. Roger Davis would begin as Dirk Wilkins, Collinwood caretaker. Davis would return as Charles Delaware Tate, an artist whose portraits have the disturbing ability of coming to life. Amanda Harris (Donna McKechnie), Quentin’s latest “true love,” is created in this manner.
Kathryn Leigh Scott begins the 19th century storyline as governess Rachel Drummond. After that character was murdered, Scott took a two-month hiatus and returned as Kitty Soames, Lady Hampshire, an aristocratic fortune-hunting widow.
Kitty was a real departure for Kathryn. She describes her initial character, Maggie Evans, as “a wisecracking waitress, a young-Eve Arden type.” Maggie gradually mellowed into the the all-purpose helpless victim, and Josette du Prés, strong-willed in her own way, nevertheless succumbed to Angélique’s witchcraft.
Curtis & Co. saw Lady Kitty as a tool to resurrect the popular Barnabas/Josette romance. Barnabas had identified Maggie, Victoria and Rachel with his lost love Josette. Kitty Soames was actually the reincarnation of Josette. Karma and human experience had made her a different person, but her latest incarnation also ends in tragedy.
In November 1969, after nine months of some of Dark Shadows’ most intricate, intelligent storylines, an end came to the adventures in 1897. Now the writers were faced with a dilemma. Quentin Collins had left town, in search of his lost love, Amanda Harris. David Selby had clearly established himself as a draw equal to Jonathan Frid. The ratings were at an all-time high. What could they do next to hold the audience?
Their decision, unfortunately, signaled the beginning of the end of Dark Shadows.
In the 1920s, an obscure horror author, H. P. Lovecraft, had written a number of stories, collectively entitled The Cthulhu Mythos. These works, which enjoyed a surge of popularity in the early 1970s, were written in a wildly florid Victorian style and dealt with ancient, unnameable demonic beings who held sway over the earth in prehistoric times. They constantly attempt to return, and Lovecraft’s stories deal with those individuals unlucky enough to encounter these beings, supposedly so horrible that no one could look upon them and survive with their sanity intact. To the Dark Shadows writers, this was a perfect storyline and they began a free adaptation.
Unlike Lovecraft’s evil spawn, these creatures were nameable—they called themselves “the Leviathans.” In the last episode of 1897, the Leviathans kidnap Barnabas, brainwash him and entrust to his care the “Naga box,” a wooden reliquary carved with the sym
bol of a serpent, which contained the “life essence” of their leader.
Barnabas returns to 1969 ready to fulfill his new mission: to find a couple suitable for raising a baby Leviathan and assist the new kids on the block in regaining supremacy over the world. (An interesting sidelight is that this period included a one-day appearance by a then unknown young actress, Marsha Mason.)
When he was first introduced, Barnabas was rather more evil than good. But his underlying desperation and desire for humanity appealed to the viewers and won him immediate popularity.
Once again Frid took the chance to explore a different facet of his character. Barnabas, under the Leviathan influence, was coldly amoral, showing no hint that Barnabas’ personality was struggling to re-emerge.
This unsympathetic portrayal was coupled with a storyline that, compared to the high-gear 1897 saga, quite simply dragged. An irate viewer, writing to one of the daytime soap magazines, complained that the actors seemed to have only half of a script and then improvised for the rest of the episode about “how weird the people are down at the antique shop.”
The “people at the antique shop” were Megan and Philip Todd (Marie Wallace, in her third Dark Shadows role, and Christopher Bernau, a newcomer, who would later gain daytime fame as Alan Spaulding on Guiding Light). This “lucky couple” were entrusted with the Leviathan box.
This storyline almost parodies the so-called kid trick of other soaps, in which daytime’s children age at an alarming rate. The Leviathan child developes from a baby named Jacob to a young boy named Alexander, to an older boy named Michael, to Carolyn’s eventual husband, Jeb Hawkes, in a matter of weeks. The Todds are hard put to come up with cover names and stories for this succession of mysterious young boys staying in their house. Marie Wallace remembers, “We knew it wouldn’t do to tell the neighbors that our little boy came out of a box.”
Christopher Pennock, who played the role of Jeb Hawkes, recalls, “I auditioned for another part, the owner of the antique shop. When I auditioned, Dan Curtis just sat there looking at me saying ”No... No... No, save him for the thing in the box.”
Quentin’s return from the dead—this time as a human, not a ghost—was eagerly anticipated by the audience. He had been an outstanding character in the 1897 saga, but there was little for him to do in the present. All too often he was reduced to the role of sympathetic bystander. An exception was when Quentin and Amanda Harris recreated another Greek myth, that of Eurydice and Orpheus in Hell.
The tried-and-true vampire plot was dusted off to spice things up. Barnabas had been awash in the land of the living too long. Freed from the influence of the Leviathans, Barnabas is punished by Jeb Hawkes for his betrayal of them and turned back into a vampire. The action picks up steadily, leaving a slew of bodies in the wake as the soap became more violent.
Megan Todd is also turned into a vampire, but it was her on-screen husband who coveted that distinction. Christopher Bernau had only one lament about his role,- “Unfortunately, it was a completely straight part. On that show, the fun was being cast as one of the assorted monsters or ghouls. So lots of things were done to me, rather my doing anything to anyone.” Bernau had always been fascinated by the vampire legend and years later would jump at the chance to play Dracula in The Passion of Dracula Off-Broadway.
It was Marie Wallace, having been with the series since 1968, who decided it was time to be moving on. What was running through Wallace’s head when Willie staked Megan? “I better get my agent to look for another job today.” Her agent called that very day with the offer of an audition for Somerset. She replied, “I think I’d better because they’re putting a stake through my heart today.”
On October 31, 1969, Tricia Nixon had a party at the White House for 250 underpriveleged children. The festivities began at 1PM. At the north entrance a giant pumpkin replaced the usual door. Youngsters were given party favors and ponchos to wear and were directed to the famous East Wing. Entertainers included magicians, fortune tellers and the Smithsonian Puppeteers. But the favorite was a most special guest of honor: Barnabas Collins. What more thrilling Halloween for a child of 1969?
Or, for that matter, an adult. “I had a marvelous time signing autographs and talking to everyone,” Frid remembers, “It was exciting and fun for me as well as the kids. I’d been a lot of places and met a lot of people, but this was a particular treat. It isn’t every day that a person is invited to the White House.” And even less often for a vampire.
Jonathan also appeared on the Muscular Dystrophy telethon and, baring his fangs, raised $300,000 for research. The entire cast took turns appearing on virtually every variety or talk program imaginable from the Dick Cavett Show to Bozo’s Big Top, where Frid in his Barnabas costume demonstrated a Hula-Hoop. Both Jonathan and Lara Parker appeared on Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show.
Although some public appearances were worthwhile and rewarding, very often they were grueling affairs for Jonathan after a week of long, tiring days in the studio. His appearance at a Founder’s Day parade attracted 680,000 screaming fans. Invariably a crush of several hundred people showed up at supermarket openings, and at state fairs he was expected to shake hands with long lines of admirers.
Occasionally these events got out of hand. Grayson Hall recalled one such incident: “It was a parade and Jonathan and I were riding in one of those big, convertible, boat-cars with the top down. It was in the Midwest somewhere—and hot! The crowds pushed past the yellow barricades, scaled them like huns over a wall. The kids were jumping up and down, trying to hop on the car, trying to reach us. Imagine three thousand people—all who could fit around the car as far as the eye could see—crushing in like that. It scared me, and I’m an old veteran, a war horse. Jonathan was a little pale, too. You don’t stop to think ‘It’s okay, they just want to talk to you or touch you, not hurt you.’ You think that later, but at the moment you’re scared. The young supporting actress with us was terrified. Trembling and nauseated. Jon and I had to put on a brave front to calm her down.”
“I once spent two awful days at an auto show,” Donna Wandrey remembers, “sitting on a turntable attached to the hood of a green Cadillac, signing autographs alongside Tiny Tim and Miss Vicki and Arnold the Pig.”
Jonathan did put his foot down on one proposed expedition: ABC wanted him to parade through Manhattan in a hearse. “You have to draw the line somewhere,” he said.
The actors, as always, had to deal with recognition on the street. Marie Wallace recalls, “I thought my crazy Jenny characterization was so different than I am. I mean, I put little rollers in my hair, teased it, wore false lashes on top and bottom, shadowed my face—I looked unbelievably weird. And one day I was walking on 42nd Street and someone said to me, ‘Hey! You’re crazy Jenny!’ And I said, ‘How did you know?’ And she said, ‘You look just like you do on television!’ ”
For Christmas of 1969, the popular gift to give all Dark Shadows fans was the Dark Shadows record album. It featured the original music, including Josette’s Theme, and dramatic readings by Jonathan Frid and David Selby reciting Shadows of the Night, (Quentin’s Theme).Folded up inside the jacket was a poster of both actors.
Boosted by a $100,000 promotional campaign by Philips Records, sales soon reached six-digits and the soundtrack reached #18 on Billboard’s album chart.
As 1969 came to a close, the Beatles were disbanding, Star Trek had been canceled—in fact the entire decade was coming to an end.
But Dark Shadows endured.
Rain, Snow, and a Drafty, Old House: The Making of The Dark Shadows Movies
Dark Shadows’ popularity as a series had transcended the traditional limits of soap opera popularity. It had reached beyond the predictable daytime world of the housewife and housebound.
By 1968, all of America seemed to have been bitten by a vampire and Dark Shadows daily viewers numbered almost 15,000,000. Curtis’ vision expanded. With the youth cinema market burgeoning, Curtis contemplated a Dark Shadows major motion pictur
e.
The first idea was to incorporate the already-existing television video material into a full-length feature, as had previously been done with The Man From Uncle, but the complexities of the Dark Shadows storyline would not permit an easy edit for the screen. The idea of combining original, filmed material with video tape from the television show was discarded because of the continuity and quality variations. An even more important problem was that ABC refused to back the proposed motion picture.
“The network’s objections involved most of the major cliches,” Dan Curtis said, “including scoffing at the idea of making a movie out of an afternoon soap. You know... Never been done before.”
Dark Shadows’ phenomenal success on daytime television didn’t impress bottom-line oriented Hollywood producers. They did not share Curtis’ faith in his vision and his penchant for the wildly incalculable risk. To these people, soap operas were a marginal form of television entertainment, with no track record for selling anything but detergents to housewives.
The Dark Shadows Companion: 25th Anniversary Collection Page 13