Is Mayonnaise an Instrument?

The dark house on the crest of Widows’ Hill is, Victoria Winters reminds us…

What does that mean? Well, any number of a thousand things, but one thing you can always be sure of when Dark Shadows invokes that most favorite word, is that it will rarely describe anything worth watching.

In this episode, the tension takes the form of a conflict so banal, so frustratingly transparent, that we may be given to wonder if this is all some poor attempt at satire.

So Vicky is sitting at her window and reading.

Vicky then puts the book aside and grabs some scissors so, as she describes to her visitor Carolyn, she can “take back a hem”, because home seamstressing was still a skill young women were expected to have in the 1960s.

Carolyn is from the get-go weirdly aloof, declining to assist Vicky in her chore. Vicky goes into some story about her youth at the foundling home, and Carolyn says what we’ve all been thinking.

Sadly, this is the last time in the episode where she’s right about anything.

Carolyn all but accuses Victoria of being some sort of conniving two-faced schemer who wears her blasé plainness like a mask, and it would be really cool if the person she were describing had any level of reality in the show, but no.

Here we go again.

I know I don’t have to tell you this, but Carolyn’s motivation for this abrupt temper tantrum is Dick. However, she seems to be aware that that isn’t going to fly, so she’s made it Dick with Morals.

Yeah, the same someone Carolyn sought just yesterday for a prolonged discussion in his hotel room. It turns out that Carolyn saw Burke escort Vicky back to Collinwood from her window and, clearly, has gotten the idea that they were together.

We know this isn’t true, because Burke currently isn’t on very good terms with Vicky and I can’t help but feel like his offering to give her a lift back to Collinwood wasn’t a poorly-thought attempt to give her a little accident.

Anyway, here we are with Carolyn continuing to be possessive of a gross older man who she’s hot for, only this time she pretends she’s only upset out of outrage on behalf of the family.

The thing is…just like Burke being upset with Vicky for telling the truth to confirm Roger’s alibi, Carolyn is now accusing Victoria of treachery, wantonness, and apparently also being a slut, but she has done none of the things she is being accused of.

Fish tube principle: she has no say in any of this, and nothing anyone is angry at her about has any basis in fact. This doesn’t make for compelling television.

He didn’t, but nice projection. Though I don’t think Vicky would’ve needed that confirmation to figure out just what she’s so upset about.

She correctly deduces what this is all about, noting Carolyn is surely only this upset because she has unresolved feelings for Burke herself and feels shafted. She doesn’t say this part, but it’s also possible Carolyn is guilty to still feel these things, because she knows now that Burke is a danger to her family and she is now stuck between two sides.

Which is very interesting and has been since the beginning. Of course, it isn’t Carolyn’s POV we get but Vicky’s. And her conflict with regard to Burke and Collinses can never hope to be as personal as Carolyn’s and, so, we lose out.

Anyway, back to the real heroine.

Mrs. Johnson is calling Burke who…I guess isn’t in his hotel room or else she would’ve gone upstairs to see him. Lord knows where he is and how she knew who to call to find him. Never mind. Mrs. J gives Burke, and us, a rundown as to her conspiracy with him, all of which was laid out over the course of her last appearance, within one episode.

There has, of course, not yet been any movement toward Mrs. Johnson being hired as a housekeeper at Collinwood, but I don’t see why she’s discouraged. That episode wasn’t even a week ago. In Dark Shadows time, barely a flap of an eyelash has since passed.

Anyway, Mrs. Johnson concludes her business and returns to the restaurant and Our Girl Maggie Evans, where Clarice Blackburn provides us with another stunning example of how to make a character real as possible with the least amount of material.

Mostly, this comes in the form of demonstrating that the stereotype of “stingy old woman harassing service worker” (Karens?) was alive and well in 1966.

This comes out like a poem. Mrs. Johnson asks about an ingredient’s quality, Maggie vouches for it, Mrs. Johnson makes a request (in this case: “a well done roast beef sandwich”), Maggie asks a qualifier, Mrs. Johnson asks for something else…

It’s such a neat little dance of dialogue. Mrs. Johnson, we learn, rarely comes into this place, giving us the impression she is not used to being waiting on, much less having other people cook for her. She is suspicious of every ingredient, right down to the mayonnaise.

I’ve been waiting since I started this blog to get to the Mayonnaise Discourse of Episode 72. Similarly to her waxing about Malloy’s watch in her first appearance, Clarice Blackburn takes the mayonnaise and makes it into a symbol for…something.

This line bothered me so much when I first encountered it. Not the content, although I was astounded to hear people talking with reverence about mayonnaise, the quintessential Bad Condiment. But…people make mayonnaise? How? Where does it come from? Have you ever thought about it? Are we, as humans, meant to ponder such things?

I Googled “Mayonnaise recipes” and, suffice to say, promptly lost my appetite. Do you know that mayonnaise can “break”? No, I will not explain what that means.

Anyway, Mrs. Johnson uses her mayonnaise recipe as a barometer of her unresolved romantic feelings for her boss.

I’m kinda sad Malloy was a mayonnaise guy. He seemed to have more depth than that.

So we hear more about how Malloy was “the finest man to walk this earth” (but Joe Haskell is right there!) and I am sure anyone who has ever worked in the service industry (especially during these times) can relate to Maggie being trapped  by the increasing ravings of this woman.

At one point, Mrs. Johnson notes that she isn’t sure how she’ll manage on her own as she isn’t a young woman anymore.

During Dark Shadows’s first year, Clarice Blackburn was 45. Not “young”, but certainly not old. For comparison, Louis Edmonds had just turned 43 a few days before this episode was filmed, and he’s supposed to be an age contemporary of Burke’s.

As Hank Hill once said, it’s called the double standard, and we got the better end of it.

Maggie offers coffee and pie but Mrs. Johnson rejects both these offers, instead sniffing the sandwich as if fearing arsenic.

What does bad mayonnaise smell like? How can it possibly be any worse than good mayonnaise?

Maggie notes the jar has just been opened and Mrs. Johnson suggests she “write to the firm that made it”, which was this era’s version of a strongly worded email.

Mrs. Johnson promptly demands another sandwich, without mayonnaise this time. Is it on the house?

Mayonnaise is, of course, the vehicle through which evil enters the soul. The solution, of course, is to never consume mayonnaise but you aren’t ready for that conversation.

So Elizabeth is in this episode too and catches Carolyn heading out of the house. It is, at this point, that Carolyn gets Crafty.

Liz notes that Vicky went missing and wasn’t present for David’s lessons.

See what we’re doing here?

Carolyn essentially tattles on Vicky to Elizabeth, telling her she “spent the day” with Burke, also making a note that Vicky is “shortening a hem” as if the two things are connected.

Wow, okay, that didn’t take much convincing at all.

Carolyn seems sufficiently pleased that she’s put into motion her only friend losing her job and being exiled forever. Indeed, she hurries to the phone and…

Girl.

He isn’t there of course. Still, I can’t get over the bald faced transparency of this whole thing.

What, being castigated by people for not being as interesting as they’ve convinced themselves you are? Same.

So here we are again, with Vicky, so soon after earning Liz’s favor (she’s even started calling her Vicky!), is now in danger of losing it…entirely on the actions of others because she has no agency of her own.

Vicky tells Liz that the only reason she didn’t give David his lessons was because Roger took her out for breakfast this morning, something he clearly forgot to tell his sister about.

I mean, until Roger gets back and she can rip him a new asshole.

Vicky explains everything, including how her encounter with Burke was a chance meeting and not some sinister seduction…well, on her part, at least. Liz is forced to concede that Vicky isn’t the villain here, not that she apologizes or anything like that, instead sending Vicky off to find David and resume lessons.

Back at the restaurant, Maggie presents Mrs. Johnson with pie and coffee. The housekeeper entreats Maggie to sit with her for a moment.

The thing about Mrs. Johnson is that she is able to exact pity, laughter, and contempt at will. All of a sudden she’s a sad old woman, desperate for company. Elsewhere she has been a comical old spinster and a vengeful, superstitious crone. They’re all layers that complement each other to create a surprisingly human character.

Christ.

Maggie notes that being a housekeeper for one man for such a long time must be like being a wife. This is basically the same as Carolyn deciding Mrs. Johnson must be “almost like a widow now”, in that you feel it’s kind of a gross thing to say until you realize that’s exactly how the show is presenting it.

Okay, that’s enough.

Now that she’s gotten started, there’s no way she can stop and Maggie is helpless in her path. Mrs. Johnson goes on about how she knows Malloy met with foul play and the people responsible will get their due.

Maggie is rescued by the arrival of a second customer: Carolyn.

Carolyn is excited that luminary citizen Mrs. Johnson has deigned to show her face in public, delightedly informing Maggie…

Carolyn hurries to sit by her, and make her move.

Here we get more of the duality of Carolyn Stoddard. That she can so childishly go after Victoria while also showing genuine sympathy for the plight of Mrs. Johnson. Of course, then you remember that she’s only doing this because Burke planted the idea in her head, but it was still her desire to do something good that drove her to pursue it.

Burke is mentioned in passing, Mrs. Johnson, hasty to preserve her cover, mentions not seeing him since he arrived in Collinsport.

You’d think Mrs. Johnson would remember that because she was hiding in the bathroom when Burke gave Carolyn the story in the first place. Nevertheless, she’s able to save herself by claiming her grief has made her Forgetful and Carolyn is stupid enough to buy that.

So Carolyn gives Mrs. Johnson the job description during the act break, noting that, while Collinwood may seem like an intimidating place, most of the house is closed off. Doesn’t anybody ever go into the locked rooms to fumigate? How hasn’t the great house been destroyed by mold yet?

Carolyn also notes that there aren’t many people in the house. Just her, her mother, her uncle, her cousin and the governess. Which is still a household of five. Which is a lot. But Mrs. Johnson doesn’t care about the physical labor, she’s only here to fight evil and kick ass, and she’s all out of mayonnaise.

Mrs. Johnson delightedly declares she’d love the job, if Elizabeth will have her.

And now, Mrs. Johnson has effortlessly morphed into the dear old woman, gushing over the charity of a young lady.

She declares to Maggie that “this young lady made me feel good”, apparently in a good enough mood to tip, as she presents Maggie with…

I checked the inflation calculator. Turns out that a dime in 1966 was the equivalent of 80 cents today. And that’s a tip on a roast beef sandwich (that had to be prepared twice), a slice of pie and a cup of coffee. Something tells me it wasn’t 15%.

But it’s the gravity with which she says that, like she’s Mother Theresa for giving a shitty tip. And then she takes off like she expects a choir of angels to be singing above her head.

Privately, Maggie declares she thinks Mrs. Johnson is creepy and…well, she isn’t exactly without evidence to back that up.

You know, Carolyn could be a stand-up citizen and give Maggie a proper tip, given she has money to burn, but Burke didn’t suggest she do that, so the impulse to be kind to the little people just isn’t kicking in.

As Carolyn goes, Maggie gives her a warning.

Maggie phrases that as though Carolyn was there to hear Mrs. Johnson talk about it, like she has any context at all.

Back at Collinwood, Liz calls Roger at the office to, indeed, rip him a new one for taking the babysitter on a date, but also for making Liz look bad in front of said babysitter. Vicky overhears this as she searches for David, who is apparently missing (but that stopped being a cause for concern a while ago), and takes issue with Liz “checking up” on her.

It’s a fun turnaround. Now it’s Vicky upset at Liz for “checking up on her story”. Of course, unlike Liz in the beginning, Vicky’s telling the truth. All the time. To her detriment.

And, yes, here we are again, with Liz apologizing for irrationally deciding that Vicky is a terrible person and, of course, as always, Vicky will accept, even if she seems to be putting up some token resistance this time.

Weird flex, but okay.

And…just like that they’re sitting buddy-buddy by the fire and Liz is talking about how fond she is of her. I guess she likes that Victoria has the wherewithal to stand up to her, but none of the grit to actually do anything to defy her.

Liz wonders that she ought to bring some of that “outside world” to Collinwood for Vicky’s sake, and Carolyn’s too.

I don’t know what you think of when you think of “the outside world in 1966”, but if it’s a crow-like old woman in a pillbox hat, you’re in luck.

This Day in History- Tuesday, October 4, 1966

The Kingdom of Lesotho is formally established following the British colony of Basutoland gaining independence. Located entirely within the borders of South Africa, it is, along with Vatican City and the Republic of San Marino (both landlocked within Italy) the only independent state surrounded by another country’s territory.