Off-Limits

When I said this week of episodes escalated quickly, I meant it.

We have gone from job interviews and ceaseless talk about the imagined locations of a certain silver filigreed fountain pen to the heroine being escorted into the abandoned, cursed recesses of the Old Dark House, led by a child who we know (even if she, inexplicably, doesn’t) wants to do her harm.

All of this is only happening because of the silver filigreed fountain pen, of course, but at least it’s happening.

So David has deceived Victoria into believing she was correct when she accused him of stealing the silver filigreed fountain pen. He claims the pen is hidden in the east wing of the house, which has been closed off for half a century for mysterious reasons, and he will return it to her if only she accompanies him.

Also, nobody else knows where they are or what they’re doing. If this seems like a lot just to get a pen back, congratulations: You’re not Victoria Winters.

The east wing is made up of two adjoining sets, one of which is an actual room, and the other is just this bit of corridor they’re standing in now. For this half, you get the impression Sy Tomashoff and his team just dumped a lot of church jumble sale goods on an undressed set and called it a day.

I don’t want to give the goose away, but we’re approaching a major inflection point that will forever alter the course of Dark Shadows, and I can’t get over how it never would’ve happened if it weren’t for the goddamn silver filigreed fountain pen.

David reassures Vicky that there’s nothing to be frightened of and he, after all, comes here a lot and should know.

So it’s basically “This is where I go to cry”, but sinister and with rats.

When Vicky points out that they’ve been wandering down passages and up and down stairs for ten minutes, David helpfully points out that he has been deliberately leading her in circles so she won’t be able to retrace her steps to his secret sanctum.

Probably best not to think too hard about the layout of this house, if it actually can have an interconnected web of stairs and passages linked in such a way one could “go around in circles” by following them. Maybe Collinwood flies in the face of space-time.

But…er…moving on.

So David takes her through a door into his most secret place. It’s impossible to know what the room is supposed to be, but it currently looks like a doomsday prepper’s bunker, complete with barred window, rusty cot, and stacks of newspapers.

Imagine how much this place smells.

Are we to imagine that, somewhere in the byzantine history of the Collins family, there was some nutty recluse who hoarded newspapers, and this is the remains of their archive? Did Elizabeth have a batty maiden aunt determined to compile the entire history of Dagwood for posterity?

Also, they let David Henesy strike a match and light a candle in real time. I think you can get sued just for letting child actors share the same space with open flames now.

Victoria points out that she was led to believe David’s secret place was the Old House, so David clarifies…

The introduction of the Old House 14 episodes ago has forced this distinction. Early on, when David was first shown slipping out of the east wing during the suppository story, it was easy to imagine that was his secret place. The Old House was introduced late in the game. And, while you’d think that would be the more private place considering it’s a whole ruined house in the woods, Matthew coming there was a necessary occurrence in the introductory episode, so we get this BS about how not even he comes here.

Even though this is still part of the house and somebody should probably go in once in a while to dust, and check for mold and deal with all those mice David keeps talking about.

Also, “10 hundred” is just “1,000”. That’s what 10 hundreds are. I guess David wasn’t doing so hot with those times tables after all.

There’s an alternate universe where David Henesy knocks over that candle has he climbs onto the desk, all those old newspapers go up in flames, and Dark Shadows is now known only as that weird daytime soap that was literally burned to the ground because the producer figured America’s shut-ins wanted to watch ghost stories at 4:30 in the afternoon.

This is a lot to throw into the audience’s face in the first five minutes. David goes over to this box in the corner and starts talking about all the canned food he keeps there to feed the rats, or “mice” as he insists on calling them.

You know there’s no running water in this part of the house. Imagine how frigging filthy those forks are. If you weren’t, you are now.

Vicky insists on being brand new all the time, and so wonders what friends he’s talking about.

It’s telling that this show can have David say that and then just segue to the Perils of Carolyn Stoddard, which provide the B-side for this episode and the next, in what is truly a very confusing juxtaposition of everything this show wants to be and everything it regrettably still is.

Also introduced here, is Elizabeth’s muumuu.

It’s not the cut of the garment that offends me. Really, it’s very impressive seeing Joan Bennett descend the stairs in it. It’s that weird collar thing that makes her look like an oversized doll with a screw-off head.

Anwyay, so Carolyn is back from her temper tantrum on Friday’s episode. That tantrum was, you may recall caused either by learning Liz was (again) trying to promote Joe to facilitate his marriage to Carolyn, Roger telling her Joe and Maggie danced at the Blue Whale last night, both of these things, and probably several other things she can’t tell you and nobody can guess because that’s just who she is and this is what we’ve been doing for close to 20 weeks.

Liz expresses her concern with David’s latest vanishing act.

Some things never change.

It turns out Carolyn has decided to feel remorseful for her behavior with both Joe and Elizabeth.

If she doesn’t like herself now, she oughta see herself in 15 minutes.

Elizabeth admits it may have been wrong for her to manipulate Joe via promotion.

Good to know Elizabeth can claim responsibility for some things. Still waiting to see if she has buyers’ remorse for letting David get away with attempted patricide, but still.

Infuriatingly, Carolyn still doesn’t believe she was right to call Elizabeth out.

She fails to understand that this is both true and exactly the problem, because Elizabeth didn’t take into account Joe’s own feelings. But Carolyn is used to doing this herself, so of course she doesn’t see anything wrong with it.

Literally every woman on the canvas but Carolyn thinks Joe is the bee’s knees. Well, except Mrs. Johnson, we don’t have her opinion yet, but if her track record has told me anything, it’s that she likes when the roast beef is fresh, if you catch my meaning.

Don’t let that stop you.

So again we return to the perennial theme of Carolyn being terrified of her own future and, through this, resenting Joe’s own attempts to secure his own adult life, to the point of selfishly hoping Joe’s dreams never come true.

I’m not sure this can be sustained.

Elizabeth suggests that if Carolyn is really sorry for how she behaved, she ought to call Joe and explain herself. Carolyn gets right on that, wondering what she’d ever do without Liz around.

Collinses do have a lot of novel ways of surviving. As a matter of fact, you can lock one in an airless box for 200 years and they’ll turn out just fine, with only the most minimal side-effects.

Not as many as he should have, that’s true.

So Joe agrees to come up to Collinwood, and Carolyn says the Words.

Which is your first clue that we’re no more than two act breaks from this manic going right back to depressive. Or worse.

Where exactly did Carolyn go for that walk? Sunny Goodge Street?

Liz has just come back from checking on Vicky to see if she knows where David is and, surprise surprise, she’s gone too.

You’d almost think she’s forgotten her nephew, “the little monster”, has proven himself capable of murder. But she has bigger cares at the moment, of course…planning the greatest night of her and Joe’s respective lives.

So Liz lounges against the piano like the Hot Mama she is, while Nancy Barrett takes a page from TV Mom’s book and consults the teleprompter.

There is a fancy place in town? I’m not exaggerating when I tell you we never see it.

Ha-ha, Joe has no money and is constantly made to lavish expensive favors on a girl who likes him five minutes out of the day.

So…yeah. This is classic soap opera maneuvering. Carolyn has a change of heart about her man, even deciding it might finally be time for the next big step. At the same time, Joe has only just now begun finally reconsidering his romantic decisions as the chemistry between himself and Maggie becomes apparent.

And when I say ‘classic’, I mean anybody who has ever watched a soap for any length of time can outline this shit by heart, and yet it’s remarkable that Art Wallace has finally gotten his hands on the template. Just in time for his last two episodes.

Nevertheless.

Liz’s light skepticism (smart lady) convinces Carolyn to abruptly the change the subject to that of great parties at Collinwood, of the kind they never have now but, Liz tells her, they did once.

This is a very nice little reminiscence that blends well with lore and making use of an ongoing plot thread: the currently closed off rooms David and Victoria are currently in. The idea that Collinwood wasn’t always a gloomy old pile, but a real, happy place…its stature and elegance welcoming rather than isolating…makes it feel more real, and makes the plight of the current generation of Collinses that much sadder. It didn’t have to be this way…and then you end up wondering why it is.

When Carolyn wishes they could reopen the closed rooms and bring life back to Collinwood, Liz proves less malleable.

The little catch as Joan Bennett says “come back” could be just her stumbling on the line, but the way she delivers it gets me thinking it’s intentional. This is a woman full of regret and sadness, as well as the torturous responsibility of presiding over a decaying legacy, when she is fully aware of how great it all once was.

Anyway, that’s not the Main Idea of this particular narrative, so let’s check on our friends in the East Wing.

David is performatively calling for help to demonstrate that nobody can hear you screaming from this part of the house.

I get the idea he’s trying to tell her something.

I know, you already said that. We’re lead to believe that Vicky asked no follow-up questions the first time he mentioned the ghosts he hangs out with in this room. Maybe she’s used to ignoring all that stuff by now.

David continues very insistently Telling Her Something:

Dusty old bones, perhaps. Filled with green dust.

So, they continue having a nice time. Meanwhile, Joe arrives at Collinwood, all dressed up for an evening on the town.

Her positivity is offensive in and of itself. Her sole relationship strategy seems to be pretending nothing bad ever happened, until something bad happens again. Which it will. Very soon.

Liz emerges, apparently unafraid of being seen wearing that thing she has on, as Joe tells Carolyn he was here looking for her and saw Vicky.

Carolyn quashes this line of questioning very quickly, insisting there are “more important things” than her missing cousin and his babysitter.

I mean, at least she’s honest about it.

Stupid, senile old woman, worrying about the whereabouts of the mentally unbalanced child. Doesn’t she know Carolyn has to make excuses for her shitty behavior?

So David has committed himself to Jesus…I mean, the silver filigreed fountain pen. Finding it. So he claims.

I wonder what David thinks happened to the pen. Roger wasn’t exactly subtle when he suggested to David he forget all about it. Then again, he suggested the same thing to Vicky, and she never suspected, so maybe we’re supposed to believe Roger was being very clever there.

David suggests the ghosts may have taken it, and we can forgive Vicky’s exasperation because that’s the same excuse he made when he vandalized her suitcase 10,000 years ago. Or 10 hundred, whatever you like.

I like how he says that all ominously, like he’s having a psychic portent or something. Even though there’s been lightning and thunder since last episode, and there is currently lightning happening right outside the window. It isn’t exactly a prophecy.

Vicky decides she’s had enough of this bullshit and tries to leave, only to find…

If she were really from New York, she’d have kept him from closing the door behind her in the first place instead of just staring at all the weird newspaper towers.

Let’s imagine this is one of Art Wallace’s parallelism things, and he is again using David and Carolyn as foils for each other, as he does in their relation to Burke. This time, he has the two cousins emotionally manipulating other people into making idiots of themselves, only for them to get upset when the other person has had enough.

Of course, Carolyn’s been emotionally manipulating Joe since day one, and she still doesn’t hold a candle to the bullshit David’s about to pull.

*studio audience bursts into applause*

David neither confirms nor denies this, instead luridly telling Victoria all the wretched things his undead companions will do to her:

I like that, despite many setbacks, they’re still so committed to the gothic underpinnings that they can’t say the ghosts will cause physical harm because…generally, in this type of fiction, ghosts don’t directly, physically harm people, instead doing things like terrorize them to death or whatever.

So instead, the best threat David has is the ghosts will make an unseemly ruckus.

David makes Vicky say “please” before he unlocks the door. And I know it’s bad to hit children, but I think in this situation, maybe our girl would have some justifications, yeah?

So David unlocks the door, and at first it looks like we’re all done with this weird diversion…

Admirable as it is that this child understands the essentials of fire safety, the correct response would’ve been “No, bitch, you blow out the candle.”

But Vicky still, inexplicably, trusts people, and that’s how you end up in a rat-infested room full of old newspapers while a demented nine-year-old locks the door.

Who’d have thought the best way to get things moving around here was to make sure the main character can’t move anywhere?

Yanno, on a sliding scale, this might be more heinous than the suppository thing. At least that would’ve been over quick and was retribution for a lifetime of gaslighting and abuse. David’s imprisoning his governess to starve to death because she accused him of stealing a silver filigreed fountain pen.

Act IV begins with David emerging from the east wing with an air of put-upon casualness.

Downstairs, Carolyn is concluding what I’m sure she thinks is a very impassioned speech.

See, I’m not sure Carolyn was angry at Joe for wanting to be “independent”. I thought it was because Roger told her about Joe and Maggie dancing at the Blue Whale last night? So either Wallace is disregarding Swann’s script, or Carolyn is making up a more noble reason for her to be upset with Joe because she doesn’t really want to apologize for things she actually did.

Kinda leaning on the second one.

There are a few things to say to that, but Joe’s expression says it more eloquently than any of them.

See, this is the kind of “apology” that exists more to gratify the person making it than to atone for any misdeed. I’ll continue to maintain that Wallace understands Carolyn very well, so it’s kinda sad this is the last we’ll ever get of his Joe and Carolyn.

Oh, yeah, spoiler, there’s no date for them next episode.

They’re allowed to say “sexy”, but they have to substitute “damn” for “darn”. Then again, that may be the one instance of the word “sexy” in the entire series. Though I haven’t watched the later years in a bit, so maybe it comes up there. It’s at least the only time for the whole pre-Barnabas era.

Having finally gotten a break to get his word in edgewise, Joe tells her he can’t go out with her tonight.

All told, it’s probably very respectful of him not to have done this over the phone. This means he gets to be castigated in person.

This was after she claimed she never wanted to see him again, an event which occurred earlier this same day, so I think Joe can be forgiven not suspecting Carolyn would come home wanting to marry him.

Carolyn does not immediately conclude the “she” is Maggie. She doesn’t seem to give a shit who it is, or what this is about, but she does act as if she’s caught Joe cheating, despite him openly telling her what’s going on.

So, one dinner date with a member of the opposite sex and Carolyn has convinced herself Joe is some kind of Lothario. This is the person who followed a man to Bangor to have French fries with him and then accept a silver filigreed fountain pen which is now almost certain to get a young woman killed.

Well, now the shoe’s on the other foot, I guess it doesn’t feel so hot.

It’s amazing how much that one dance at the Blue Whale is paying off. Joe is finally out of shits to give. And he is about to enjoy a pleasant evening with a pretty, like-minded girl who isn’t insane and doesn’t want to do Incest with her closest male relative.

Sure, sport.

So Joe departs just as David comes down the stairs.

Liz, very exhaustedly, tells David she was worried, and he gives her some weaksauce explanation about being “outside” before going to get some pie, which is just deliciously psychopathic. Remember, the night of the car crash he almost killed himself over the emotional turmoil? Got the training wheels off right quick, didn’t he?

Oh, and Liz asks if he’s seen Miss Winters and he’s like “No” and she doesn’t challenge this and then he goes to get that pie.

But it can always get odder!

This Day in History- Thursday, October 20, 1966

Soviet First Secretary Leonid Brezhnev, along with a delegation including the leaders of Romania, Hungary, East Germany, and Cuba’s Fidel Castro witness the launch of five rockets and missiles in what was called Operation Palma 3.

And, because I already had one King of the Hill ref in this post…