Should I Go? (You Should Stay)

Pressures, Harry. Pressures.

In the two days (three nights) since Victoria Winters came to Collinwood to earn an exorbitant salary caring for a mentally disturbed nine-year-old and also learn some shit about herself as a side hustle, she has been threatened, bullied, intimidated, startled with ghost stories, possibly encountered not one, but two ghosts, been framed for attempted murder, been forced into standing witness at an impromptu trial of a suspected attempted murderer, has taken a date with an enterprising sex predator at least 15 years older than her, and has been flat out told by her only friend that said friend’s unquenchable horniness for said sex predator may make her do something she’ll regret so maybe it’s better if Vicky just left after all.

So it’s not surprising that she’s considering leaving. After all, Roger only insisted she stick around last night in case she was needed to testify against Burke in the suppository inquisition. Thanks to Liz-David-Liz and everyone’s favorite puppet policeman Consteriff Carter, that’s no longer a concern. The most promising lead she did have to her past…the dossier Burke had compiled on her past…has turned up nothing. Maybe it’s time to cut her losses and leave.

But she won’t. because she’s still the heroine and, for now at least, Dark Shadows is invested in her, even if they are by no means invested in telling a story about her.

A visibly distraught Liz enters the drawing room, interrupting Vicky’s own emo ruminations.

Conversation naturally turns to David. Not that Vicky points out it may not be a good or morally sound idea to absolve him of any responsibility for trying to kill his Dad, though she does have worries about David basically telling her he’s coming for her next.

For whatever reason, she didn’t take it so seriously when he repeatedly told her the voices in his head had told him to deal with her, but I guess now that she’s seen him in action, it’s pointless pretending otherwise.

Sure, except for that one time she tried to hang that attempted murder on you, but bygones.

Ah. She has. You know, good for her. It’s a shame the structure of the show mandates she won’t, like the people leaving Gilligan’s Island or the Beverly Hillbillies investing their fortune into agriculture in a place they know rather than moving to Beverly…Hills, that is, swimming pools, movie stars.

The kid’s already tried to frame her for murder, purloined suppository and all. And given Liz’s laissez faire attitude toward the whole debacle, it seems reasonable to believe measures won’t be taken to keep the kid from doing something that might work next time. I’d be packing my bags right off, screw a six weeks’ notice.

And naturally, this entire exchange is overheard by that messy bitch in training.

Liz is quite distressed that the woman she has lied to, gaslit (slightly different from lying) and accused of attempted murder wants to leave and demands an explanation.

That’s more of an answer than Liz deserves and, indeed, no worse than any of the “answers” she’s given to all Vicky’s many questions.

Liz’s response, basically, is to insinuate Vicky is a coward.

So, basically, the boomers got the same treatment as we are but that did nothing to change their perspectives when they got older. Maybe we’ll turn out differently if the rising sea levels haven’t gotten us first.

Vicky repeats what David just said to her and then the camera cuts to David pulling this really weird, uncanny face that is definitely going to haunt my dreams tonight.

And her most judicious response was to do absolutely nothing. You know, maybe she could run for office. Liz quickly clarifies, however…she isn’t scared for her sake, but for David’s.

Liz closes the doors as if that will buy them privacy and proceeds to assume the Wax Philosophic pose.

Sure.

Elizabeth proceeds to assume the most conciliatory attitude she has yet taken with her new servant, saying she is surprised Vicky came up here at all and, even though she’s often wondered if it was the right thing to do…

Aw. Of course, this requires us to accept that Liz had this realization mere hours after trying to hang the attempted murder charge on Vicky to protect David, but the actual episode aired two weeks ago, which is ancient times by soap standards.

One of the most rewarding things about watching Dark Shadows from the start rather than beginning with Barnabas as many do is that you get to watch the evolution of Victoria Winters’s place in the household, going from a stranger met with distrust and suspicion to a valued member of the family. We haven’t quite gotten there yet, but Liz making this confession to her is an important step in that development.

Victoria insists she isn’t running from David’s threat, but…

So…she’s running from the threat? I mean, basically. What, would she have reconsidered if he’d threatened her with a smile?

Liz should be aware that this blanket statement counts herself as one of the people who failed David, but she’s also been represented as the only person in the house who doesn’t hate him, so maybe this argument is just full of shit.

I take it she hasn’t met many actual teachers. Still, Vicky thinks the solution is for Liz to find some other unsuspecting schmuck to parade in front of the kid, as if he isn’t going to try to ruin that bitch’s life too.

Like, what would the ad for that look like?

WANTED: Governess and companion for emotionally/mentally troubled nine-year-old boy. Successful applicant will not be bothered by theft, hauntings, death threats, and attempts on her life. Knowledge of rudimentary mechanics not required but appreciated.

How nice. Just when you think Liz may finally cave and explain why she’s so invested in Vicky’s future at Collinwood, why she brought her here in the first place…

Among the many stunts Dark Shadows attempts post-suppository, none of them include expediting the show’s so-called driving question. What, was Art Wallace himself convinced nobody cared? Because the only real reason nobody would care is because they’re taking so long to address it.

Vicky assesses there’s more to this than David and presses Liz again and, again, gets jack in the way of answers.

Whatever the hell point she’s trying to make is cut off by the ringing of the telephone because it’s been a long time since Joan Bennett got to pretend to speak to somebody.

But, no, she legit says “I’m sorry, you’ll have to speak up, I can’t hear you” which is such banal phone conversation the only way this could be redeemed is if she were talking to the Blessed Incarnation…

Oh thank God.

Sam Evans gets to continue his revival tour, proving in no uncertain terms that Dark Shadows has just been spinning its wheels on bullshit waiting for him to turn up with a different face and superior voice.

Sam loses his courage and hangs up with a theatrical panache that ought to be impossible for somebody pretending to use a phone. He returns to the restaurant, where I guess Maggie remains on a much-needed break…

I have no idea why Roger went back into town. We last saw him when Liz and Consteriff Carter collaborated to abort justice’s baby. In that same episode, Roger consumed an obscene amount of brandy and then stalked upstairs, but I guess he was in fine enough trim afterward to drive (!) down the same hill he almost died on last night to harass Sam about that stupid fucking portrait gossip claims he’s painting.

Sam tells at least part of the story during the act break, but none of the important parts considering the show returns with him being cross-examined about who he thinks answered the phone when he tried to call.

You’ll recall a very similar stupid conversation about calling Collinwood occurred during the last Sam’s tenure, to as unimpressive a result.

Roger demands to know if Sam left his name, which he didn’t, which does nothing to pacify Roger as usual.

He says, calling him “Mr. Evans” for the first time since we’ve met him. It might just be that he’s impressed by the dignity of Nu!Sam.

That’s another of the many delightful side affects of Sam’s recast, giving stage actors like Mitch Ryan and Louis Edmonds someone with whom they can play as equals. Roger and Mark Allen’s Sam’s interactions always felt like Roger was berating and bullying a giant imbecile. Here, with Dave Ford’s more subdued, philosophical and grounded Sam, it seems Roger may have an equal, if not in class or station, but in mind.

Roger scolds Sam like an insolent child, warning him (again) against calling his home and also against painting Burke’s portrait and Sam gives him this look…

Sam, in fact, had been trying to call to tell Roger that he’s now trapped in an impossibly lucrative deal to paint a picture of a local blowhard.

Shit.

Tell him, honey.

Roger repeats his fear that Sam, given enough exposure to Burke, may start talking about The Thing, a fear Sam clearly shares but, to Roger’s face, claims isn’t a concern.

Ah, la.

But if we accept that Burke and Roger are age contemporaries, could the Burke of last decade really be considered a “boy”? He’d have been, what, 25? At least?

Sam also reluctantly admits that Burke guessed Roger was the one convincing him not to take the commission.

Roger gives an indicative ultimatum…

This refers to their very first interaction back in Episode 7, also known as that time Mark Allen screwed up every single thing he was given so it was kind of hard to pay attention to anything that was happening

He gives Sam until morning to break things off (ahem) with the Devlin or else…

Like father, like son. Though David’s threat had less qualifying statements (“have to think”, “some other way”) and therefore hit harder. This gives the impression Roger honestly has no idea what he would do to “handle the problem”.

Back at Collinwood, Liz proves as ineffacious as her brother at this whole ultimatum business, and it can’t be argued that her grounds are even more ridiculous than Roger’s.

The clinching statement? If Vicky stays at Collinwood, Carolyn won’t have to worry about her mother being alone and she’ll leave! Somehow this is supposed to convince Victoria. Not that Liz can possibly know that Carolyn just made a giant ass of herself talking about how Burke’s penis might make her do ridiculous and dangerous things, but it’s still fairly presumptuous to assume Victoria will stake her freedom and safety on ensuring the future of a girl she’s known for all of 72 hours.

Liz 1966: I Don’t Have a Plan for That.

Elizabeth wraps up by, quite simply, if infuriatingly saying that Vicky is “that important” to her, which begs 1,000 questions Vicky by now knows better than to think will get answers, so she doesn’t ask.

Vicky asks about David and his threats.

Yes, trust the woman who just went to great pains to cover up all evidence of the actual violent crime the child committed. I know we’re all in good hands with her.

But…somehow, someway, Liz’s pleas don’t fall on deaf ears.

Mind you, if I were this girl, I’d take every word Liz just said to heart and file it away for when David inevitably makes a single peep. Any inaction (or averse action) then taken by Liz will then be grounds for a lawsuit, because I am not bitchmade.

Liz and Vicky head out into the foyer and David springs into some other uber-convincing hiding place for the sole purpose of doing this.

Just sidestepping out of that stylistic hole in the set. We’ll eventually see there are like some coat pegs and things in that little crevice next to the door, but I’m inclined to think at this moment in the show’s run David simply walked through a hole in space time.

David pleads with his aunt to get rid of Vicky as if he has any damn say in the matter. Liz brusquely sends him into the drawing room for a talking-to.

The thing about being sorry or the thing about executing your enemies via firing squad, because both have been on my mind lately.

Vicky, perhaps not getting good vibes from the house, asks to go see a movie in town, again raising the question of just what time it’s supposed to be and, also, how she’ll get there considering Carolyn very passive-aggressively demanded her car keys back after Vicky’s last excursion.

Liz goes in to see David and, rather than opening by saying he owes his rotten freedom to her, attempts diplomacy.

Liz points out she doesn’t hate David.

And it’s for that sake that Roger hasn’t been evicted yet. Liz warns him that “The world isn’t a very happy place for boys who don’t care what people think”, which is what I believed until just such a boy got elected to the office of the presidency.

Liz declares that they will have no more talk about sending David away or the “accident” and, you know, they keep promising we’re not gonna keep talking about the “accident”, but they keep bringing it up and every time I’m more aggravated.

Liz continues that he will do exactly as Victoria says…

Liz’s response is the for once appropriately badass “Don’t make me answer that.”

And then, in a strange example of…something David collapses against Elizabeth and…

Is…is he aware of what he’s done? Does he understand the consequence? Is he actually frightened? The idea that David is somebody who, deep down, understands the terror he’s wrought and the harm he’s capable of causing is certainly an enticing one and the latest beat in what is turning out to be a fairly meaty character arc.

Does he…does he only want to kill people because he believes Liz will love them better? Is he threatened by Vicky, not just because he fears she’ll replace his mother, but because he fears Liz will come to love her more than she loves him? Maybe he has an awareness of the strange motives Liz has for keeping Victoria around, the fear that there may be a stronger bond, not yet discovered, between the new governess and the aunt he believes is his only ally.

Maybe that’s why David inexplicably stole Vicky’s pointless foundling home letter, unwittingly leading to her discovering the suppository? Maybe he was desperate to discover the truth about her, so he could know what possible danger might lead to Liz “loving” her more than she loves him?

Not that this ever gets said outright. Much is left to subtext, which is fine and indeed preferable until you realize they’re never going to do anything with it anyway.

Liz says she doesn’t know how to stop loving David…

*studio applause*

Roger has returned in fine form.

Somebody’s been cranked up to 100.

David feebly tells him of his promise to Liz that he won’t do any more harm and Roger reacts like a sane individual because, for once, he is the only one in the room.

Liz sends David to bed, presumably so she can chastise Roger outside the gaze of his child. David wonders if Liz will accompany him and Louis Edmonds gives us another Zinger.

Like Sam waving his arm around and yelling about façades last episode, that line is too colorful for Art Wallace and therefore is almost certainly an ad lib. Louie gets bonus points for using the word “shadows”.

As Liz and David depart, Roger calls after him.

I feel that should be some kind of series-wide tagline. It belongs on coffee mugs and tee-shirts.

Back at the restaurant, Sam is furiously doodling what appears to be a tombstone.

Also probably not in the script, but Dave Ford saw that the character he’s playing is an artist and decided to have him act like one, as opposed to a seven-foot-tall sad clown.

Vicky arrives in the restaurant, marking her second trip to this hotel in the same evening because there are only so many places in this town. She finds the counter still unattended, but that doesn’t matter because we’ve got great company.

Vicky’s last interaction with Sam Evans also happened in this set, about 24 hours ago in-universe time, when Roger trotted her over here to act as a meat shield against Burke in the first iteration of the Suppository Spat. Over all, this is her third meeting with Sam, the first being when he told her the ghost stories of Josette Collins at the end of the first week. Ghost stories. Remember those?

Her rapport with Mark Allen Sam was mostly of someone intimidated and aggravated. I wonder why. With Dave Ford, however, her banter is more the sort you would expect from a strange, yet overall friendly acquaintance.

It turns out it’s too late to catch a movie, meaning she drove all the way to the next town for nothing.

I can’t get over how fucking good this dialog is and how excellent his delivery. Everybody who interacts with Dave Ford’s Sam seems to be brightened up, heartened. There is an inexhaustible warmth to his performance that is truly something to see.

He goes around the corner and pours a cup of his daughter’s coffee. What may seem like an invasive, rude, even criminal gesture becomes warm and inviting, almost as though this Sam is apologizing for the crass behavior of his earlier incarnation.

Vicky, however, isn’t interested in coffee, which makes sense because it’s either 8:40 or 2:00 AM depending on how we’re tracking time here and either way she has work in the morning.

Before she goes, Sam asks her a question, prefacing it that she’s been in Collinwood “some time” which…okay, fine, I guess it’s important we pretend she’s been there a while even though the show is determined to move time along at a snail’s pace, at least for now.

Perhaps fixating on a comment Roger made earlier about how Liz may have recognized his (admittedly very distinctive) voice on the phone, Sam wonders about how Liz is doing, noting that he, like most of the townsfolk except, I guess, Bill Malloy and that rat the Consteriff, haven’t seen her in 18 years. Is family still important to her?

Vicky, clearly thinking of that other thing, says it sure still is.

Sam really is desperate if he’s considering going to the mater. He’s probably right too, in assuming Liz would protect Roger. We’ve already seen how she protected David and, in the course of doing that, she implied she may have protected Roger already, when the Burke matter was still going on.

Vicky admits she doesn’t understand what he’s talking about.

Sam bids Vicky farewell, but gives her a warning. For once, not a warning to leave, which would be doubly insufferable given Vicky was just talked out of leaving, but a warning…

Imagine how fucked that would be if Mark Allen was saying it and reflect on the difference one man makes. Sam has been terrified for his life since we first saw him, but this is the first time I’m compelled to be terrified with him.

Whatever else he may be plotting, though, Roger is currently more interested in yet another glass of brandy.

Liz returns…

Liz tells him that he has a responsibility to make sure his son doesn’t keep acting out and…

This ENERGY

Roger accurately points out that it doesn’t really matter how he feels about David because Liz will still do things however she likes and…yeah, again, you don’t have to like Roger, but he’s justified in being peeved his sister is protecting his son after he tried to kill him.

Liz says she’s only trying to help David.

“Some strange way…” I mean, at least Vicky is making a paycheck. I don’t know what Roger and Carolyn get out of this.

Louis Edmonds is on fucking fire. He declares that none of their efforts matter in the shadow of…

And he storms off, having perhaps accidentally made a cogent point.

What does dynasty really matter in the end, when all is said and done, when the kingmakers are dead and the generations have paved over their monuments to craft a new future in their own name? What good is the name of Collins anyway? They just package sardines. Is it worth it, really worth it, to sacrifice to much to protect a name and a dusty legacy?

Good questions, and ones the show will explore in many different ways from many different points of view, in settings grounded in realism and hurled into the far-out spheres of fantasy. Because when Dark Shadows decides it wants to tell us something, it, like the Golden Age soaps it shared its heyday with, tell it with a vengeance.

Vicky returns at the very tail end of things just as  Liz makes another phone call, to get back to her quota.

We presume she means Portland, Maine, not Portland, Oregon, nor Portland Colorado (two of them), Arkansas, Connecticut, Georgia, North Dakota, Texas, New York, Ohio, Tennessee or Wisconsin (again two of them and two unincorporated communities).

…who? What? What’s this?

What’s this indeed. But Liz’s conversation with Roger (if it can be called that) apparently spooked her so much she insists the operator keep trying to reach this Ned Calder, regardless of the lateness of the hour.

What does this mean? Who is this man? What does Liz want with him?

Heh…uh…yeah.

This Day in History- Monday, August 15, 1966

Syrian military jets strafe an Israeli patrol boat that had run aground near the Syrian side of the Sea of Galilee, leading to a 12-day standoff that I suppose ranks fairly low on international skirmishes from this period.

The New York Herald Tribune is formally closed four months after releasing its last issue.

Mark Lane releases A Critique of the Warren Commission’s Inquiry into the Murders of President John F. Kennedy, Officer J.D. Tippit and Lee Harvey Oswald”, the first J.F.K. conspiracy book to become a best seller because it’s very easy to get rich convincing stupid people that they’re smart.