The Dark Shadows Companion: 25th Anniversary Collection
Page 16
Kate recalls the first few weeks on the series as basically a matter of learning “what to step on and what not to.” Playing a ghost, she had no lines. But it was still to be the best training ground possible for a novice actress. As Kate put it many years and several series later, “I learned more from the constant pressure of doing Dark Shadows than I did in school.”
This plot was another attempt to recapture the magic of the Quentin/Beth Turn of the Screw storyline. Gerard is the handsome, menacing male ghost and Daphne the victim of fate, sympathetic-to-the-children female ghost. But there are a few twists to engage the viewer. Denise Nickerson (Amy Jennings) had left the series. David’s new companion is Professor Stokes’ niece, Hallie (Kathy Cody). She becomes David’s new partner in possession as the ghosts of Gerard and Daphne begin their campaign to enslave the children’s souls.
Every day the children are led to a dollhouse in the playroom (oddly enough, outfitted for children considerably younger than the 14-year-old David Collins). They seem hypnotized by strange music emanating from a toy carousel and the looming presence of the late-great and still quite active Gerard Stiles.
Gerard orders the ghosts of Tad and Carrie to take possession of the bodies of David and Hallie. (Both sets of children are played by David Henesy and Kathy Cody). It is revealed that Gerard, Daphne, Tad, and Carrie had all lived in Collinwood in the year 1840. It seems Tad and Carrie have grown rather fond of David and Hallie and with good reason, since they are dead-ringers, so to speak, for each other. Though they are reluctant to do so, the children obey Gerard in order to help their governess, Daphne Harridge.
With Tad and Carrie as his reluctant allies, Gerard begins his plan to destroy Collinwood (as the ruins in 1995 have augured). He seeks to kill everyone in the Great House, and numerous hints are dropped as to his motivations.
At the end of this sequence, Kathryn Leigh Scott left the show to join her future husband, photographer Ben Martin, in Europe. Dark Shadows would lose another original cast member, whose roles, particularly Josette Du Prés and Maggie Evans, had played crucial parts in the storyline.
The show had always been extremely difficult to work on, asking more of the actors than any two shows put together. And although it had a larger budget than any other daytime serial, most of it went to smoke machines and Chromakey and dry ice, not to further compensation for the actors. Among the inner circle, it was known that Jonathan Frid and Grayson Hall would not mourn the death of Dark Shadows. Still, there was a certain amount of familial loyalty. The surprising thing about Dark Shadows is the lack of ill-will among the cast members, even during this very difficult period of time prior to cancellation.
The talk show interviews of that period in time kept up the happy banter about cast comradely. And no, Jonathan Frid was still not married and yes, he and Kathryn Leigh Scott (or Lara Parker, or Donna Wandrey, or Grayson Hall, or Nancy Barrett) were just good friends. And yes, it was true that anyone playing a vampire on the show was forbidden—by contract—to get a suntan.
After Donna Wandrey related to Kate Jackson her horror story about making a personal appearance at the auto show with a pig named Arnold, she casually asked Kate what appearances she would be doing. Kate went pale and ran from the dressing room in horror. Jackson would later have her maiden voyage in the midst of a particularly bitter Milwaukee winter, sitting atop an open automobile for six straight hours. Kate’s only comment to Donna upon her return was, “That was...really interesting.”
Public appearances alone would not save the boat from sinking, so Dark Shadows’ staff of veteran writers got together for a 52-hour marathon session, looking for the sure-fire storyline, reexamining all that had gone before.
What emerged from this session was a storyline that would include some very compelling and dramatic moments—some of the best the series had to offer. It was not enough to save the series, but it was a valiant effort, leaving the fans of the series with happy memories.
They elected to do another flashback, chosing the year 1840. There was not a lot of temporal elbow room in which to move without bumping into their other storylines with pre-established characters and outcomes. 1897 lay just before them, and 1795 was only a few decades behind—both reasonably within a character’s lifetime. Audience interest and costume requirements meant that they must remain within reliable history. The earliest time the series explored (and then only in one episode) was the year 1690, a time period with a way of life and speech which would have been difficult to reproduce and tiring for the mainstream audience on a daily basis.
In 1840, David Selby once again played “Quentin”, this one a great-uncle to the 1897 version. (Selby would play a total of six characters—four on the series and two in Night of Dark Shadows—and five of them were named Quentin.) Even though great care was taken not to countermand or abrogate already-established plotlines, inconsistencies abounded. For instance, in 1840 Roxanne Drew inexplicably returned, this time as a vampire. When vampire Roxanne is exposed to the sun, killing her—it is not explained how the Roxanne of 1970 had gotten there. The wide-ranging implications of the parallel time storyline has provided considerable grist for fan speculation.
To save the future of Collinwood, Barnabas and Julia engage the warlock Judah Zachery in a battle of wits, a dangerous contest indeed. Judah had been condemned to death for the practice of witchcraft in the year 1692—and the judiciary had included one Amadeus Collins. Judah Zachery was condemned to beheading, his head to be placed on display as a warning to all of Judah’s followers (who included Miranda du Val, who turned King’s Evidence and would—in the 1840 storyline—figure prominently).
On that day, Judah set his curse upon the Collins name. He condemned all of Amadeus’ descendants to destruction—which could have, in fact, explained all the dark business of Collinwood which was to follow. All the subsequent curses upon the family were child’s play next to the ire of this rather pernicious warlock.
Involved in all this is a young ne’er-do-well named Gerard Stiles (James Storm). Gerard is a friend of Quentin Collins, despite the fact he ultimately wants to be master of Collinwood, usurping Quentin’s role as head of the household. Judah Zachery selects Gerard to carry out his plan for revenge, establishing a hold over him that would require young Stiles to haunt Collinwood 150 years in the future. For some reason, Stiles would exact Judah’s spells - bringing the children Tad and Carrie and the woman Daphne back to life, and to otherwise carry out the wholesale slaughter of people for whom Gerard himself could have no grudge.
In 1840, it is Gerard who recognizes Angélique, then in the guise of Valerie Collins, Barnabas’ wife, the identity by which she is introduced to the 1840 Collins family (just as Julia was introduced as Barnabas’ “sister”). Gerard knows her to be Miranda du Val, who hung Judah out to dry in exchange for her own freedom.
It is also Gerard who implicates Quentin as a “worker of black magic”, which leads to several deaths and Quentin’s arrest on charges for which the penalty would be beheading, just as it had been for Judah Zachery. Later, Quentin is cleared of the charges (and Gerard is revealed as the guilty party) with Barnabas acting as his lawyer. The case is further assisted when Angélique has an inexplicable change of heart and clears Quentin with her testimony.
In the last few days of the 1840 storyline, a reformed Angélique lifts the vampire curse from Barnabas, just as Gerard—in punishing her for what she did to Judah— removes from Angélique all her powers as a witch. Angélique is now human and powerless.
Finally, Quentin is freed and Gerard implicated as the servant of Judah. Gerard is shot by Desmond Collins (John Karlen) in retribution for Quentin and himself. As Gerard dies in his arms, Quentin grants Gerard’s request for forgiveness. In so doing, Judah Zachery is at peace, though the audience never learns why. Presumably, Gerard was the reincarnation of Judah Zachery.
These episodes also feature one of the most inexplicable plot twists of all. When Angélique is finally shot and killed, Bar
nabas somehow decides that she was, in fact, his “one true love”, despite the fact that she had murdered his little sister, his fiancée, his uncle, and about half of the Collins family at different times. One can only wonder at the grief the whole family would have been spared if he’d realized this in the first place in 1795!
The mortal blow, however, was a decision necessitated by Jonathan Frid’s growing boredom with his role as Barnabas. He demanded another role. Therefore, as Barnabas, Julia, and Professor Stokes (who later rejoined them back in time) finish their mission in 1840 and return to the present, the year is 1971. They find that their sojourn to the past has been successful: Collinwood is still standing and all its inhabitants—including those dead when they left—are alive.
Barnabas and Julia walk hand-in-hand from the room, discussing how wonderful it is that their friends are alive and well. And as they do so, Barnabas Collins and Dr Julia Hoffman walk into television history. That is the last glimpse the viewers will have of them.
The subsequent 1841 Parallel Time, Dark Shadows’ final storyline, was was a last-ditch effort, doomed from the outset by the loss of Barnabas. That the attempt never quite works is really no one’s fault. Certainly, given what the writers had to work with, it was the last, best hope.
The proposition in this Parallel Collinwood was that the events of 1795 had proceeded as they would have without Angélique. Barnabas and Josette had married, but their heir would not inherit Collinwood—he would, instead, be a poor, resentful relation. Joan Bennett appeared as a parallel Flora Collins. Grayson Hall was to appear as yet another Julia Collins. Lara Parker was cast in the role of Catherine Harridge, and Kate Jackson in the part of her sister Daphne. And Jonathan Frid was given the role of Bramwell Collins, descendant of Barnabas and Josette Collins.
Remembers Frid: “The character of Bramwell was partly my suggestion. I left the show for a few days and we had to renegotiate a contract. I would only come back if they changed it to another character, because I didn’t want to preserve the vampire thing.
“We knew the show was pretty well on its way out and I was perfectly aware that it was the fanging which was the big thing with Barnabas. It had run its course. Changing the storyline so constantly didn’t do the show any good and I thought it was rather a silly move because if a certain story isn’t going well at least keep the plot and change the emphasis of the story and bring in some of the other characters that were more popular into that storyline. But they would completely do a new story with the same people, the same moods, the same dialogue. Just giving them different names. Really, it didn’t accomplish anything. It would have been better to concentrate on keeping the same storyline, but directing it a little this way or that way and bringing in the elements that are popular.”
This storyline was basically Dark Shadows meets Wuthering Heights with Bramwell and Catherine as the star-crossed lovers (satisfying—it was hoped—the desires of the Barnabas and Angélique devotees).The series seemed to return to its Gothic beginnings, with the emphasis placed on the romance.
Both Bramwell and Catherine are promised to different people when they fall in love: Bramwell to Catherine’s own sister Daphne, who will eventually die from one of those soap opera illnesses that kill without pain and leave its victim looking the picture of health. And, of course Daphne dies, forgiving them both. Catherine was to wed Morgan Collins (Keith Prentice). This leads to various classic-soap opera intricacies of family loyalties and jealousy. Bramwell and Catherine consummate their eternal love in one quick night of passion just before Catherine is to wed Morgan. Her pregnancy is the result.
To counterbalance, there was one brief flirtation with the occult. It seems that this Collins clan also lived under a curse - this time borrowed from the controversial Shirley Jackson story The Lottery. In the Dark Shadows plot, the Collins family drew lots every hundred years, to choose one person to spend the night in the cursed room. Should the member emerge from the room the next morning in his or her right mind, then the curse would be broken. However, the unfortunate family member inevitably became mad as a hatter. Nevertheless, the lottery went on, for only by this method would the rest of the family be allowed to survive.
During the lottery, Catherine, now pregnant with Bramwell’s child, was chosen. Bramwell, being Bramwell, wouldn’t let her face the room alone. Together they enter the dreaded, cursed room to spend the night. And, of course, love conquering all, they emerged quite sane the following morning. Still it should be pointed out that Catherine was pregnant, leaving the plot open to further speculation about whether or not the child was sane. This also left the celebrated “end of the Collins curse” in question as well.
And then Dark Shadows was canceled.
“When one is on a rollercoaster, one prays for it to end,” Thayer David said in a telephone interview on February 21, 1971. “But then the coaster stops, and one gets off and suddenly the world seems duller and sadder somehow.”
Thousands of letters were written—radio stations even took up the spoil, coordinating “Bring Back Dark Shadows” campaigns—but to no avail.
On March 24,1971, episode 1245 was taped, directed by Lela Swift and written by Sam Hall. Swift gave the ready signal to John Karlen, Joan Bennett, Grayson Hall, and Jonathan Frid on their marks in the foyer set. She then cued Thayer David (Ben Stokes), and writer Gordon Russell (making a cameo appearance in the role of Harris), who was carrying Nancy Barrett, to enter through the foyer door.
The camera dollies in for a close-up of Nancy Barrett, in her role of Melanie, revealing two bite marks on her neck. “What kind of animal could have caused a bite like that?” Julia exclaims, as many others had during the five years of Dark Shadows. “If I didn’t know better...” Ben Stokes says. “Yes, Stokes?” Bramwell urges him on. “If I didn’t know it wasn’t possible,” Ben goes on, “I’d swear there was a vampire at Collinwood!”
A camera closes in on Barnabas’ portrait, posing our unasked question. But a voice-over by Thayer David quickly dismisses our concerns—and our last fleeting hope—with a gentle, humorous wink at the audience that had remained faithful with the series from the beginning: “There was no vampire loose on the great estate. For the first time at Collinwood, the marks on the neck were indeed those of an animal...and for as long as they lived, the dark shadows of Collinwood were but a memory of the distant past...”
The final episode aired April 2, 1971. By 4:30 PM, Dark Shadows had become a part of television history. It had introduced several name actors to their first dramatic roles; it had been a training ground for such media giants as Dan Curtis, and it had broken important technical ground with the pioneering use of Chromakey as a regular feature of television production.
Although most of the critics of the serial claimed to have always known it wouldn’t last, Dark Shadows actually had a remarkably long run for such an unusual program. It also proved that programming that breaks all the rules cannot only be marketable but remarkably profitable and—bottom line—draw an audience. In addition to its success in North America, the series was dubbed in Spanish and became a primetime smash throughout Latin America.
“Several thousand letters were received and the phones never stopped ringing for three days,” said Julie Hoover, manager of ABC’s Audience Information, describing the repercussions following the end of the series.
There are numerous explanations for the cancellation of Dark Shadows. Certainly, based on established daytime serial criteria for what “a good rating” (i.e. a survivable low rating) is, it could not have been the ratings. The great expense of the production played a part but the usual theory is that Dark Shadows had simply run out of steam.
As Jonathan Frid observed, “The end wasn’t really a great shock because the writing on the wall was always there for me. Every time the show went up another notch, I figured it was peaking and that it would start to go down. It lasted a hell of a lot longer than I thought it would. It wasn’t the average soap opera and they went through all t
he stories three or four times. We started repeating ourselves, and the show burned out.”
After the show’s demise, Nancy Barrett added an objective appraisal: “Frankly, I was getting tired of Dark Shadows. I’ve always had ambivalent feelings about it. It was too ambitious. When it was good, it was brilliant. But we had some real disaster days when everything went bad—from costumes to hair, lines to sets. Too much was required in a medium where getting shows on quickly is of the essence. It was too involved technically and too exhausting physically. Too much was asked of people—technicians, writers, actors, everyone—for a half-hour show. If it had been about 25% less ambitious, it could have been great. And it might still be on the air.”
But perhaps the most practical observation about the impact of Dark Shadows’ cancellation came from Dark Shadows’ own voice of reason, Dr Julia Hoffman. “I don’t know what everyone is so glum about,” Grayson Hall chuckled, gesturing with her cigarette toward her husband, writer Sam Hall. “Everyone here is only losing one paycheck—I’m losing two.”
One of those who would find a future in daytime television (in his long-time role as Langley Wallingford on All My Children, Louis Edmonds, summed up the experience this way: “At the time Dark Shadows was on, I looked down my nose at it, at all soaps. I was a classically-trained actor and I would think ‘what am I doing playing in this kind of thing?’ I had a very stupid Southern arrogance which I’ve obliterated since I changed my way of thinking and went to All My Children.