Comedy of Errors

We begin today’s episode with more of the new crop of location footage, this time starring the de facto main character of the show.

In her monologue, Victoria Winters warns of “currents that stem from the anger of one man”. And so it is, and so it has been.

Burke is the centerpiece of this episode, which isn’t surprising because he’s been the center of everything since day one. The unique and novel element in today’s episode, which saves it from being a loathsome slog like the last one, is how Burke’s role as the center of everyone’s lives brings people together.

Burke returns to his room and is quickly accosted by none other than ol’ Davey Boy.

Good to see he got his lines screwed right off the bat. But, yes, David has succeeded in his goal of last episode, in getting up to Burke’s room so he can warn him about a problem that doesn’t really exist.

I’m willing to excuse these shaky justifications because it allows Burke and David to finally share the screen again. Their last encounter was more than 40 episodes ago, branching off their very first meeting in the mire of the suppository story. It’s an important bond for both characters, with David identifying Burke as his only friend, and Burke clearly having a soft spot of his own for the boy who could very well be his son.

Because this show is what it is, though, their friendship hasn’t been given much chance to develop, short of the weird as hell crystal ball Burke sent David as a gift. Just add to the list of balls the show dropped so they could drop some newer balls with this Bill Malloy slog.

Burke asks David how he got into the room and the answer itself isn’t very remarkable. He used information from his first visit to ascertain what times the maid does cleaning and slipped in in accordance with that. The real kicker is the gleeful grin on David’s face.

He is so positively delighted in his own cleverness. And, clearly, is pleased to have someone to share it with. David may not know the extent of Burke’s love affair with his beloved mother, but on some level he’s certainly beginning to see the Devlin as the father he wished he had.

“Pretty cool.” Why, between this and Carolyn calling Joe a “square”, maybe Dark Shadows is finally catching up to the times.

With a stunning lack of self-awareness, Burke points out what David did was illegal, not that he’s angry about it. Still, the man is the last person to get upset about other people violating his privacy.

Anarchist king.

Burke is astounded to hear such brazen talk coming from the mouth of babes, and even more astounded when David tells him who he heard it from.

It’s delightful seeing Burke react to his own logic being turned against him, as if may just begin to realize that he isn’t as righteous in his methods as he always tells himself. He can pulverize Roger, manipulate Carolyn, battle to a stalemate with Liz, but somehow the one member of the Collins clan he can’t get one up on is the 9-year-old child.

It’s necessary that we be reminded of the softer edges to Burke Devlin’s personality, especially given his recent deplorable conduct with the usual purveyor of soft edges, Victoria Winters. Since learning Vicky contributed to Roger’s alibi, Burke has been unfairly abrasive and mean, going so far as to insinuate the little governess is some kind of loose woman (“You really get around.”). Indeed, it’s hard to sympathize with a man who acts that way, constantly believing himself to be in the right, as he does in the matter of Malloy’s death.

And so, it is welcome that we can see him falter and bluster thanks to the antics of a little shitheel brat.

This effect was likely created by someone walking through the projector light used to superimpose the text over the image of Collinwood. Maybe it was Dan Curtis, or John Sedwick, or Christ Jesus. It’s a mystery for the ages.

We return to find an old friend awaiting us:

I love that the show feels the need to remind us what the Burke Devlin Special is made of so we don’t think Burke is giving cocktails to a child.

Burke continues to be in disbelief that he gave David unchristian advice, which he did, at the same time assisting him in avoiding being exposed for a serious crime he committed. Not that they reference any of that once in this episode. The suppository saga may as well have been relegated to the U-bend of history.

But David isn’t here for moralizing.

Just a reminder that this is all a result of some harebrained idea David got for little reason. He convinced himself that Elizabeth was conspiring with the sheriff to send Burke away for killing Malloy and, based on this one theory he came up with entirely on his own, ran off to warn him. It’s stupid, but if it justifies these scenes happening, I guess it’s excusable.

Speaking of America’s Sweetheart, here he is right now, straight off the fish tube.

He’s in such a good mood because the coroner has decided not to investigate the mysterious death as a murder which means he’s off the hook. I don’t know, maybe this was an occasion that called for a touch more solemnity.

This is weird. Like, yeah, it’s nice that Roger won’t be a murder suspect, but they’re still holding hands and cheering about a coroner’s verdict that a man fell in the ocean and tragically drowned.

Of course, the on-the-nose glee of it all makes perfect sense for Louis Edmonds, who has never made a secret of how entrapped Roger has felt as the hypothetical noose of suspicion continued to close around him. Matching that with over-the-top joy matches perfectly.

Where? Over subtlety’s grave?

Liz doesn’t dignify this with a comment. I’m actually surprised she doesn’t thud this asshole on the head and remind him the guy whose “accidental death” he’s celebrating was, like, her only friend. The way Roger’s acting, it’s like Malloy was some stranger whose sudden death was, for him, a minor inconvenience.

Kinda like that guy Burke allegedly manslaughtered, I guess.

Sure, sport.

Liz appears to have some reservations about all this. She admits to Roger that she did, briefly, consider the possibility Roger had something to do with it. And, considering Roger isn’t doing himself any favors with this song and dance routine, I can’t imagine her suspicions are at all allayed here.

Which introduces the struggle. Liz would do anything to protect the Collins family from scandal. Everybody around her is aware of this. Matthew is so aware that he committed an actual crime in an attempt to avoid publicity circling back to the great house on Widows’ Hill.

But would Elizabeth’s determination remain if she found out that her brother was a murderer? Actually, yeah, probably. Which is why it’s important here that the victim was a dear friend of hers, a man who may even have harbored romantic feelings for her. No wonder Liz is relieved the coroner’s verdict has come in, but not as enthused as Roger. No scandal doesn’t mean the possibility is gone forever.

You can tell Dark Shadows had no idea what it was going to become, because, were that the case, the coroner would be a little stooped goblin man in a cassock who spoke in broken English and had his own Leitmotif.

Liz’s further pressing as to why, exactly, Roger is being so unctuously pleased with himself about this, is interrupted by a sudden recollection.

Liz had totally forgotten David running out of the house and down hill, unaccompanied, what must have by now been at least an hour ago. Reminder that she’s the member of the household most concerned for his well-being.

Roger, of course, couldn’t care less if his only child got lost or abducted or eaten by wild beasts, and goes out for a walk about the property, as you do.

He proceeds to exit the scene with a dramatic flourish that shows us a Roger as happy and carefree as we have ever seen him.

Because it’s Roger, though, we know very well this happiness isn’t going to last, so let’s turn next to his worst enemies as they discuss the likelihood that he is a murderer.

David tells Burke he knew Roger was the killer from the start because “they” told him.

To this point Burke has been staunchly uninvolved in what little passes for the ghost stuff on this show. It’s not particularly surprising that he doesn’t pay much credence to David’s accusations against his father. Then again, given how he’s usually good to seize on any scrap against Roger, however minute, I guess it’s good to know he draws the line on “The spirits told me”.

And yet…

It’s Irony-o-clock again. Because, of course, Burke’s plan is to live at Collinwood. Forever. After he purchases it and all the other Collins holdings and renders the entire family destitute, including this boy who looks up to him like he hung the moon, for reasons I can’t possibly understand except, I guess, he knows his father hates him and he loves fruit punch.

…use it in a sentence, please?

David doesn’t know what the word means, though, I guess because he’s never seen The Wizard of Oz.

So, Burke explains to David who the coroner is, and why the decision he will make will be so important. I should point out the elegant contrast in this episode, as both Burke and Roger are ecstatic about this decision, yet only one of them has yet heard it.

Ooh, someone’s at the door. Burke ushers David into the kitchen and goes to greet his latest visitor…

Here we have the real meat of the episode, the thing that makes it worth watching. Burke, and the two underage people who can’t get enough of him, sharing the same set for the fist time.

Burke tells Carolyn he’s in the middle of a “meeting”, an explanation she quickly sees through when she notes there’s nobody around.

Carolyn immediately assumes Burke is with a woman. She points out that, while she is certainly not upset, Vicky certainly would be, reminding us of how she went scorched earth on the girl for no reason a few episodes ago. Burke debases any of Carolyn’s suspicions about him and Vicky, acting like this whole thing is highly amusing.

And it is. This is the second time, in literally a week, that Burke and Carolyn have had a heated argument in this room while a third party hides in the kitchen. Both times were funny, but this time is clearly meant to be funny on purpose.

They act like they’re both Burke’s exes catching each other in the boudoir. It’s like a French farce, and is a type of silly, self-aware comedy Dark Shadows has to this point been incapable of.

Carolyn calls David out for disobeying her mother and going to see Burke, at which point David flatly points out that she’s disobeying her mother too.

This is a highlight of the storyline, and certainly one of the best moments these characters have with each other. Art Wallace seems even to admit he knows how weird it is that the Collins cousins are each so enamored of Burke, and here has fun with it.

If Dark Shadows spun its wheels like this all the time, these early episodes wouldn’t be such a massive slog.

Carolyn tries to get rid of David so she and Burke can talk more privily, but David refuses to miss any of the fireworks, so Carolyn changes the subject from (probably) how Victoria Winters is a stink bitch and Burke should Stop It, to the maid Burke convinced her to hire.

David is immediately suspicious of a new name, and wonders if Burke is okay with this hiring decision, perhaps indicating he has a better idea of what;s going on here than Carolyn.

Burke doesn’t even try to make that sound sincere, but it’s not like Carolyn’s any closer to figuring out what this all is, so…

Burke next attempts to usher David out.

And David does as he’s told. A miracle.

Alone, Burke gets right through to it, deducing that Carolyn is only here because she got her tits in a twist about him bringing Vicky make to Collinwood. Carolyn prepares a dignified defense to these cutting accusations.

And…she probably does. Or, rather, she hates herself for having feelings for him. I mean, Carolyn’s actions this week have not been those of a woman who loves herself.

Burke honestly needs to be reminded of the sterling silver filigreed fountain pen he gave Carolyn during their lunch in Bangor four days/32 episodes ago. I guess he gives them to all the girls.

This really has been Roger’s day. Art Wallace makes as if to cap things off by suggesting Burke get some premature discharge…

At which point Burke points out that, whatever he may have forgotten, he knows he doesn’t have the pen. It was never returned to him, despite Roger claiming it from Carolyn and promising to restore it to Burke…

Burke remembers that, at the meeting-that-never-was, Roger did make to return the pen, but realized he didn’t have it. That episode aired in late August. This one aired in early October. The pen hasn’t been mentioned once between then and now.

Pacing.

Anyway, by now, you should see where this is going. Neither of them seem to, but there it is.

Burke fails to see the significance of the pen, perhaps indicating that he isn’t nearly as good a detective as he thinks he is.

Carolyn, however, has the grace to feel mortified at the potential loss of something so valuable, which at the very least indicates some kind of respect for other people’s things and, somewhere, a capacity to feel shame that appears to wear off whenever she’s around Burke.

She hurries into the bedroom to call Collinwood, despite the fact that Burke frequently uses a mounted phone near the door to this room. Burke tries to tell her not to bother, with the aggrandizing attitude of someone who knows they spent a lot of money for something and don’t care.

I can’t recall him ever telling him that, but this is all very cute and nice, so I’ll let it slide.

No sooner has Carolyn left does she return, having just spoken to her mother (who, I guess, asked no questions about where she was and what she was doing).

Mitch is in such top form this episode. But Burke’s high spirits aren’t long for this world, however, and curdles at the news Carolyn brings.

It begins to become clear now why the coroner’s verdict was dropped dead in the middle of the week, so that the ripple effects of the news could be felt across the cast. By the time of this episode, all the most involved parties, with the exception of Sam and Maggie, have been informed. No, Victoria Winters is not an involved party. Here we see the contrast between the jubilation at Collinwood, with Burke acting just as Sam predicted he would last episode.

His attitude changes entirely, ordering Carolyn in brusque tones to get David away from here, presumably so he can be Sad Boi Devlin in peace.

We have two primary interpretations of Burke’s anger at the coroner’s decision: either he doesn’t believe the coroner at all and thinks it’s all corrupt, or he doesn’t care and was counting on Roger being sent up for murder for the same reason Roger hoped to hang the suppository on him. The show ends up going with the first, but there it is.

Now, the stage is set for the unfettered Burke Sheriff Patterson has been warning about far too much.

Another thing I love is that Carolyn hesitates before departing, and it’s David who has to usher her out of the room.

And then Burke makes this face:

You’re probably wondering how they could possibly squeeze another five minutes out of this episode. Not without some difficulty. There’s a brief scene showing David and Carolyn returning to Collinwood, where Liz chastises David for seeing Burke. She is dissuaded, oddly, by Carolyn, perhaps indicating she’s softening somewhat on her cousin.

The real action in this last act is Burke confronting Patterson, who shows up at the last minute.

Burke remains resolute in his belief that the coroner was swayed by the influence of the Collins family, even if they didn’t necessarily do anything to sway him. It’s the kind of allegation that can’t possibly be proven, which is probably why the show never pursues it any further.

Burke is now completely untethered, with no fear nor deference to the law of Collinsport. There is nothing on earth that will convince him Roger Collins isn’t a murderer, and he intends to stay put in town until he is proven correct in this belief.

Things seem to have come to a head. But they won’t be able to boil over without one last ingredient. A sterling silver filigreed…ingredient.

This Day in History- Thursday, October 6, 1966

Give me an L, give me an S, give me a D! L.S.D. becomes legal in the state of California, paving the way for the part of the ’60s everyone remembers (or loves to misremember).