Is This a Pen I See Before Me?

Slating! Slating!

I don’t always address the “slating”. Indeed, I never have before. This segment is when ABC announcer Bob Lloyd reads off the “slate” that describes the series name, episode number (within a given year, not overall), date filmed, and date to air. Usually, it’s very boring. There’s a bit in an earlier episode when you can hear Bob Lloyd rehearsing for a toilet cleaner ad before he does it, that’s kind of fun. The slating for the very first episode includes Lloyd complaining he can’t see the slate before he, well, sees it. That one’s especially great because, if you watch the series on DVD from the very beginning, the very first words you’ll hear on Dark Shadows are “What do you want me to do? I can’t see the slate!”

Anyway, the “Beginning” episodes were ported to DVD some time after the rest of the series made DVD and, before that, VHS and, before that, marathons on cable. The first 209 episodes, presumably, were treated as more “hardcore old TV” fan stuff. Maybe that’s the reason the slating is included for these episodes, but not with episodes 210 on?

They’re fun, because sometimes you can see the actors doing stuff.

The slating guy looks frightened. Sometimes you can see him with a cigarette. It’s great.

Then the shot changes to the slate guy and WHOA, he could use some sleep.

Anyway, her name is Victoria Winters, something something crest of Widow’s Hill, something something fear, distrust and hatred time for the show.

Dave Ford’s tour of Dark Shadows isn’t done yet. He’s already one-upped his predecessor in every scene with every actor Mark Allen interacted with, plus Joel Crothers as Joe Haskell, who Cursed!Sam never got to see but now, in a further unprecedented move, Sam gets to go to Collinwood and interact with Joan Bennett, as an actor of Dave Ford’s stature is no doubt entitled to do.

Probably good for Mark Allen’s sake he never had scenes with Liz. Bennett might’ve killed him. She was about that life.

A few episodes ago, Sam tried desperately to call Collinwood to speak to Roger and spoke with Liz instead, at which point he panickily hung up. Later, during Burke’s portrait sitting, he mused that Mrs. Stoddard has always seemed like a good woman. It seems that Sam truly believes this…perhaps he has to. It is all he has to hinge his hopes on.

These shots also give us a good look at the set dressing tree they installed in what was formerly the black void of death outside the house.

Especially hilarious because you’d think someone would’ve consulted the establishing shots of Collinwood that open every episode and think “Hm…there doesn’t seem to be a giant tree three feet from the front door.”

Anyway, Liz recognizes Sam from long ago.

There’s such a delightful brightness in Joan Bennett’s eyes as she says that. I have no idea if she was in a good mood or something, or if she’s just excited to get to work with Dave Ford, but that might just be my own fangirling.

What a doll.

This is an interesting and not-oft touched upon detail. Liz, living in Collinwood as long as she has, much be a veritable stranger to much of the town. If there are any children in Collinsport (at least one baby was born since Vicky came here, though I wonder whether it has any peers), they would’ve been born entirely within her seclusion. The only locals we know to have had any reliable contact with her are her daughter’s boyfriend, the guy that runs her business, and the local puppet lawmaker.

At least, the Consteriff didn’t seem too uneasy around Liz, which implied they’d interacted a few times in the last 18 years. Then again, he rarely seemed like much of anything, so…

At any rate, Liz must seem a stranger to almost everybody. And everybody, likewise, is strange to her.

Yeah, you got shorter, stouter, bitching beard…

Liz invites the delightful Mr. Evans in, no doubt desperate for company.

While this is no doubt a relatable sentiment, Liz is naturally curious. Sam confesses he wants to see her, about Roger.

She’s so used to cleaning up the bastard’s messes that she immediately assumes that’s what this is about.

This brings to the fore his desperate sentiments as expressed to Victoria last night: he’s considering opening up to Liz, hoping she will pursue what’s right instead of protecting her family. But we know that’s a real gamble, especially considering how Liz “handled” the suppository thing.

Liz actually references the suppository debacle as a very serious bit of trouble for her brother, insisting that nothing Sam has to tell her could be more urgent than that.

Sam points out he’s here concerning another automobile accident, which is both a revelatory statement and evidence that Art Wallace may not have much of an imagination.

Sam, no doubt reminded of the last Collins sibling who successfully bribed him, shuts this down at once, in what is a brief, but impactful expression of the guilt that so poisonously haunts this character.

Most people turn to Jesus, or whatever, but Joan Bennett is the next best thing.

Liz leads Sam into the drawing room and, get this, he immediately stops to admire the paintings.

Way to rag on your own paneled walls.

You get the impression he actually means that. The poor sap loves what he does, if only his vice wasn’t killing his talent.

Er…#relatable.

Wow, two Paul Stoddard references in as many episodes. Unlike before, though, this is actually a fresh detail. It’s the first Liz has heard of it at any rate.

This is quite a delicate piece of writing. It tells us a lot, without telling us explicitly. All we really know about Paul Stoddard at this point is that he left. We don’t know why, we don’t know under what circumstances, we don’t even know if he’s dead or alive. Nobody in town has ever expressed much opinion about Liz’s husband until now.

But now, with one anecdote, we know that he wanted a portrait too. And, just like Burke, he wanted it made in the style of those at Collinwood.

Sam offers to show Liz the preliminary sketches he still has of Paul’s unfinished commission, but…

Why does Liz refuse so adamantly? Guilt? Pain? Regret? Her feelings about her missing husband are as ambiguous as the nature of the man himself. And, like so much else, will remain so. For quite a while.

Sam cannily recalls that he’s recently been commissioned for a painting to those same specifications. Obviously, Roger hasn’t gone gossiping to the other members of the household about Burke’s nefarious portrait plot, so this is the first Liz is hearing of it.

Sam admits he agreed to do the commission.

That’s one way to put it.

Liz wonders if Burke has told Sam anything about why he came back to town, something which, again, he has been blatantly tight-lipped about for a long time.

I dunno about that. She carries a tea tray like nobody’s business. Liz offers Sam a drink.

Devastating.

You might be hankering for some libation too, seeing as we’re off to Bangor.

Second new set in two episodes. Like Joe’s office, we won’t see much of it, but this one is recurring. It’s the restaurant at the Bangor Pine Hotel, the same place Burke’s money man Bronson is staying in. Or, rather…was staying in.

It’s a very elegant set, with its lurid wallpaper and wall sconces and accompanied by a lusciously atmospheric “classy piano” track, our first bit of new music in a while courtesy, as always, of the late, great Bob Cobert.

That they went to all this trouble to craft a new set of this detail (recall how cardboard cheap Bronson’s hotel room looked) should tell you Dark Shadows is putting a lot of stock in the future of the Burke Devlin story. Whatever changes they’re putting in place with the recasting of supporting characters and the addition of a new writer, they are still committed to at least one of their initial driving plots.

You’d think that’s a good thing. Hoo boy, is today gonna prove you wrong.

…huh?

So, even though Burke had been going to this big important meeting to see Bronson, to the point of speaking to him on the phone before leaving town, he arrives and finds this rando Mr. Blair dude hanging around in Bronson’s hotel, no evidence of Bronson himself, and a comment (implicit threat?) not to ask any questions.

And, yes, before you ask… Dark Shadows from the Beginning has the backstory on this.

Like Bronson, however, Mr. Blair is also played by a high caliber television character actor of the period: John Baragrey who, at this point, had a far more distinguished filmography than his predecessor. Why these people were content to work bit parts on this show is beyond me. Maybe word hadn’t got out yet.

It’s telling that they didn’t recast Bronson. Blair is presented as an associate of the same accounting firm as Bronson, here in Bangor at his partner’s request. Maybe they didn’t think it necessary to recast a supporting character. Like doing three in a one month span would telegraph that the wheels were coming off the train.

The gentlemen order scotch and water, presumably because it’s ill-done to talk business with a straight-up.

Blair’s answer is…everything. You’ll recall that poor Bronson’s entire one-episode tenure on this show was marred by Burke hectoring him about not getting “enough” dirt on the Collins family’s finances. You’d think if he wanted things done so thoroughly, he’d have called, or written, or telegrammed or something before summoning the guy from New York on short notice to the point that he missed a date with his wife.

The Count of Monte Ripoff continues apace. Like his 19^th century French literary counterpart, Burke’s revenge plan includes buying up all his rival’s debts. Unlike that counterpart, however, that’s basically all his plan is.

‘And then I’LL BE FAIREST IN THE LAND!’

John Baragrey has a nice, soothing voice. He could read audiobooks, if they’d had those. His tone when he tells Burke that he has it in his power to purchase literally every single thing the Collins family owns is such that he might as well be describing lots on Antiques Roadshow.

As he struggles, a surprising visitant arrives at the restaurant.

Ah God.

Carolyn was quite clear about her intentions to follow Burke to his business meeting. Despite repeatedly saying she couldn’t come, Burke did very little to actually dissuade her, even going so far as to tell her when he’d be leaving, which made it very easy for her to get into her badass car and, well…

Follow him.

And now here she is.

Burke concludes reading the report and uh…thumbs up?

It doesn’t seem intended as a thumbs up, so just add to the list of strange things Mitch Ryan does with his hands.

There is literally no reason for him to be an asshole with this guy. It just comes naturally. He actually seems, I think, pleased.

Blair is “ready to move” whenever Burke is. I wouldn’t get excited for high stakes action, though. Recall it took us this long to get to the conclusion of the preliminary phase of whatever plot this even is.

Blair discusses an impending call with a “Mr. Harris from the bank”.

We recall that a major part of Burke’s policy with regard to Bronson and Blair is complete anonymity for him. How this will translate if and when he succeeds in acquiring all the Collins properties is unclear, but we assume by then he’ll have no reason for this bullshit secret agent stuff anyway.

I’m probably not the first person to call the pre-Barnabas era of Dark Shadows foreplay. Burke is certainly the only character who points it out in-universe.

Long, agonizing, dry, sexless foreplay. Or at least this particular stretch is.

Back at her table, Carolyn has somehow gone unnoticed to this point and literally powders her nose.

Remember when I said business stories on soaps have to be translated in a way the audience can empathize with, divorcing the technical language from the pathos of the characters?

Well, let’s have Blair drone about mortgages.

It hurts me to have to transcribe this, by the way, because it really seems like something that’s important, and yet…

Could it be…because it’s haunted? Or, yanno, because historically-speaking big old houses are giant cosmetic nightmares that require extensive upkeep? It’s weird that Burke, who is supposed to be very financially savvy, seems surprised to learn what is a basic fact, then and now.

Blair goes on to make the cryptic comment that Collinwood is virtually useless unless “somebody knocks it down and turns it into a resort hotel” which, for me, conjures up thoughts of those horror stories about the greedy developer that razes the sacred/antique/hallowed ground for condos or whatever and brings about supernatural fury. What a great idea that would be, to tie together Burke’s story with the ghost stuff!

Yeah…great idea.

BUT THERE’S MORE, DELIVERED IN A VERY SLOW, VERY CALMING, VERY SLEEPY VOICE

WHY ARE WE TALKING ABOUT THIS, THIS IS A DAYTIME SOAP OPERA

And, yes, the petition was granted. The Collinses don’t pay their fair share in taxes and Burke, the guy that owns an investment firm, is righteously angry about this.

And Burke’s great revenge will be…acquiring everything they own so that he can be the new rich asshole. What an arc.

In case you were wondering, no Burke doesn’t seem surprised to find her here.

At least he doesn’t pretend to be.

Elsewhere, Liz is getting Sam drunk, but not on purpose.

If only it were that easy.

Sam, perhaps losing his nerve, attempts some bullshit excuse about wanting to see the paintings, but Liz is an expert at lying and shuts this down right quick.

Sure. Accidentally.

Liz insists that, since she barely knows Sam, she has no intention of discussing “family affairs” with him.

Ten minutes ago, she didn’t know who he was.

She says, not knowing what he’s trying to do.

And then someone knocks on the door because of course somebody does.

It’s Joe, heeding Liz’s summons from last episode.

Of course it is. Every single thing about Joe is about Carolyn. That’s the problem.

Joe, of course, doesn’t know where Carolyn is, but he’s got a good guess.

Why nobody else has guessed is pretty inexplicable at this point, but whatever.

Joe has some initial reluctance about “spying” on Carolyn, which is quite consistent with his attitude toward Burke way back in the beginning, even if it’s a little inconsistent with how he handled Burke and Vicky a couple of weeks ago, but we can hang that on him just really hating Burke Devlin.

Perhaps for this same reason (and maybe even concern for the girl who keeps cucking him), Joe is honest.

I want to meet Joe’s gossipy guy friend, but we can only have one young man on this show at a time. It’s not like we’re a soap opera or anything.

A curious Joe made inquiries at the hotel before coming to Collinwood and learned, presumably from the omnipresent Mr. Wells, that Burke was also heading to Bangor, which seems to clear that mystery pretty well.

Liz resolves to ask Carolyn when she gets home.

Shit, man. But you’ve got a point.

As before, Liz asks Joe if he’s seen Malloy since she last asked and again…no.

Which, it is implied, is quite out of character for the industrious bearded maverick.

And then, for no reason that I can conceive, Liz decides to hold court with 2/3^rd of the male population of town.

The reason she gives is so she can go call Malloy, but it comes off as a schoolteacher giving the kids busywork while she argues with her boyfriend over the phone.

Back in Bangor, drink, Carolyn is embracing her role as the coquette, when she could just as easily embrace being That Bitch, but oh well.

Burke points out it’s quite a coincidence her being here…

Sure. To a hotel restaurant. Then again, I’ve never been, but I get the impression there isn’t much to do in Bangor. It’s like how when I was in college, the nearest city was White Plains, which had two burger joints and a decrepit shopping mall with a Nordstrom Rack.

This is the second time in the same day that he’s jokingly accused her of being jealous, in case you were wondering what his kink is.

She does have a point. If somebody is acting strange, odds are they’re doing something strange. It just so happens that in this case, Burke is doing less something strange and more…something something mortgages.

He indicates Mr. Blair, pointing out that he’s his “banker” which, in a way, he kind of is. I’m not sure they ever call him an accountant, but he seems to really be that. I don’t know. Mortgages.

Burke invites her to join them for their meal and Carolyn immediately chickens out, instead suggesting they meet afterward.

Weird flex, but okay.

Then Burke does this:

So, while Blair hasn’t been as browbeaten and castigated as Bronson was, that guy never had to play third wheel on his boss’s date with a teenager.

Though John Baragrey would be a great choice to play a dispassionate sex trafficker.

There’s this weird bit where Burke introduces her as “Carolyn Collins-Stoddard” and Carolyn is surprised that Burke knew that was her “middle” name and…maybe the definitions have changed, but I don’t think “my mother’s maiden name” is what a middle name is.

Which is literally exactly what Burke is doing. And of course Carolyn laughs like it’s a joke, because she hasn’t learned anything from that Venezuela thing.

Burke claims Blair is just an old New York friend who happened to be in town and who invited Burke for a drink, never mind that he repeatedly described this to Carolyn before as a “business meeting”.

She sure will.

Burke sits Carolyn down for lunch and proceeds to inelegantly shoo Blair away.

Carolyn wonders if Burke got rid of Blair on purpose.

That was so on the nose the boom mic practically falls from heaven.

If you have to ask, honey, you already know the answer.

Carolyn admits she was childish following Burke but she doesn’t want to be treated like a child, and you are not prepared for how weird this is going to get.

Carolyn would rather be treated…

…

I’m gonna admit, when I first watched this scene, I had to stop and go back at that point because I didn’t think they could possibly be so blatant as having her order the “kids meal” alternative while on a “date” with a man she has just asked not to treat her like a child.

That’s the least goddam thing you should be worrying about.

Burke next screams at the top of his lungs, in case any of us had been dozing off…

Carolyn answers honestly.

Encouraging your underage date to lie to her family, boyfriend and friend, great, great, nothing to see here.

Mitigatingly, this seems to have been a test on Burke’s part.

Font of honesty, Burke Devlin. Truth, justice and something something mortgages.

Suddenly, this game isn’t so fun anymore.

And I know it’s supposed to be playful; Burke is toying with how everybody in town wants to make a criminal out of him, but he’s saying all this to a teenage girl whose advances he is encouraging and framing questions that sound suspiciously like…

Ahem.

Francis Swann, channeling the same energies that powered that Tarzan movie he wrote, no doubt.

But Burke doesn’t want it back. You see, ladies and gents…

Carolyn has the presence of mind to say she couldn’t possibly accept something as luxuriously expensive as this (sterling silver) fountain pen. But Burke insists, the value of the (sterling silver) fountain pen is the very reason he wants her to have it.

They sure are spending a lot of time on this sterling silver fountain pen. If Carolyn’s ring is anything to go by, I guess we can expect it to be important later.

My name is Carolyn Stoddard. Here at the great house atop Widows’ Hill, I am rent with the tension of furious sexual release…

Either Burke is talking out of his ass again, or this is confirmation that there exists a Secret Diary of Burke Devlin somewhere. Somebody call Big Finish Productions, I need an audio play on this stat. Bonus points if we can swindle Mitch Ryan out of retirement long enough to do the voicework.

Hm…that pen sure is silver. And long, and thin. Kind of tube-shaped. Metallic looking. Like a slightly bigger version of a…

Oh. Oh no. GOD NO

This entire time, Liz has been playing phone tag with the plant, only to learn, again, that Malloy is not and has not been around the office.

Liz returns to her guests and we can only imagine what the boys were talking about while she was gone.

Sam, no doubt recalling his own uncomfortable experiences of the morning, wonders why Liz is looking for Malloy, presumably forgetting that Liz is Malloy’s boss. He’s really good at keeping his lid on.

I want to believe that line was supposed to be playfully sarcastic, but Dave Ford delivers it with deadly seriousness, and we know he isn’t the type to screw up something like that so alas.

Joe’s just standing there wondering what the hell is even going on.

And, it turns out that, when confronted with the chance to get this off his chest, Sam just…

And he storms off. What a great use of our time.

I’d have sooner seen that than Carolyn asking for french fries.

I get the impression she speaks from personal experience.

Yanno, she’s not entirely off the mark there. It’s just that Sam can stand it much, much, much longer than they give him credit for.

This Day in History- Tuesday, August 23, 1966

The American Baton Rouge Victory, a victory ship dating to World War II, is sunk at Saigon by a Vietcong mine, killing seven outright and leaving four others presumed dead as the Vietnam War continues going Just Fine, You Guys.