Whydunit?

I’m gonna be Frank with you.

This episode is a lot and a half. It’s like they realized they’d blown all of Monday on mostly redundant recaps and now they have to pick up a lot of slack before the big Wednesday cliffhanger. So here we are.

So, we’ll just cut to the chase, right? Frank Garner is Vicky’s new option, and her first romantic option since Burke, because whatever Joe and Vicky tease there may have been in the beginning, he’s got his own better option now and his company is not a charity case.

Vicky met Frank some weeks ago when she went to Bangor. It immediately became clear to anybody who had ever watched television, read a book, or had a sexual fantasy, that outgoing writer Francis Swann and incoming writer Ron Sproat were setting up a love triangle between Vicky, Frank and Burke. Burke is the Bad Boy and Frank is the Nice Guy. Since I’ve already strained myself to explain the Nice Guy epidemic with regard to Frank, I won’t bore you.

Suffice to say, Frank quickly proved incapable of even attempting niceness, treating Vicky with patrician condescension and bemusement, like she were a particularly intelligent purse dog, which is very unfair, because she won’t be an intelligent purse dog for a while yet.

With all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, Frank has showed “interest” in Vicky, offering to help her find clues to her past, which is all the indication you need that this guy is useless. They spent the entirety of their first interactions eating grilled cheese in a hotel restaurant, but he’s a man and he paid attention to her, which is enough for Vicky’s narration to dub him official protector.

We begin our adventure today with Frank rushing into the Collinsport Sheriff’s Station to meet with his father Richard, who spent most of last episode being a bad lawyer.

Frank is supposed to be here in his capacity as his father’s law partner, assisting with the case of Roger Collins who is currently being held on suspicion of the murder of Bill Malloy, as well as two subsequent attempts on Vicky’s life. However, it becomes clear within approximately five seconds of him appearing onscreen that all this ‘lawyer’ stuff is a huge drag and he only cares about sniffing around the governess.

Garner talks about Roger’s purported gas station alibi for the time of Vicky’s hit and run last night, continuing to amaze and astound me by admitting in the middle of the Sheriff’s Station that he had gone into this case believing Roger was guilty of murder.

Mind you, they haven’t yet gotten the gas station alibi checked out. Patterson said he was going to get on it last episode, and given this show’s pacing we may get answers in 20 minutes, tomorrow, next week, three weeks from now, or never.

Conard Fowkes has to go out of his way to position himself at the window for that shot, creating an absurdly long pause between the two halves of that line. But it’s still an attempt at a creative shot, which is more than literally every other soap opera on the air in 1966 was doing.

Or any soap opera on the air in 2021.

Garner mentions that Patterson is going to question Sam Evans about his meeting with Vicky last night.

It’s hard to describe the little tetch-tetching noise Frank makes, but I have chosen to interpret it as disgust at the notion of artists in general. This may jive with him being a blue-shoes rich boy. Maybe he just doesn’t like Sam because he immediately assumes he’s a working class schlub. This theory will be borne out by the events of the episode, in which Frank decides Sam tried to kill Victoria for…reasons.

Anyway, not a good way to endear the new romantic lead to the audience, having him express disapproval and contempt for every member of the cast.

Thankfully, Sassy Sheriff Cakes is back to dress this kid down.

Again, I have to wonder how Garner is allowed to get away with this bullshit. He’s just camping out in the police station. what if it takes a long time for the alibi to come in? Is he just gonna spend the night? Is Patterson gonna order takeout?

See, I love how mouthy he is, but it loses a lot of its luster when he just lets them go about their business. Which, in case you need reminding, is squatting in his office while he questions witnesses and suspects in a case that could land their client in federal prison.

That’s nice for him, but I don’t see that that gives him the right to hang around. He’s still Roger’s lawyer. He isn’t even bothering to use his Dad’s stupid excuses. It doesn’t help that he sounds like a prep school boy getting hoity toity with the help.

But, of course Patterson allows it, because nothing matters anymore and really this is all just filler until the last five minutes.

Sam shows up, wearing his church clothes.

I don’t think it needs to be said at this point, but Sam is being questioned for no other reason than to beef up the nonsensical red herring that he was the one who tried to run Vicky over.

Sam is supposed to be the suspect here, but they tried that out and retired it around 40-going-on-50 episodes ago, so I (and, I imagine, the brunt of the audience) have no problem sympathizing with him here, especially given the obtuseness and general priggishness of the other people in this scene.

Presuming things we’ve seen and heard on this show are meant to be taken with any sincerity (this varies), there are a lot of problems with Sam being implicated in the hit-and-run. For one thing, he stands the least to gain. If he is Malloy’s killer, he didn’t need to fear exposure because Vicky was suspecting Roger, something he knew from Maggie. He also was in Collinsport. Vicky was struck walking down the road from Collinsport toward Collinwood, by a car coming from the Collinwood end. There can’t be many alternate roads in the immediate vicinity, so how could Sam have maneuvered his car that way without her knowing?

Further, Sam doesn’t have a car. It’s been previously established that he doesn’t drive, hence him walking to the meeting at Roger’s office. They end up trying to address this later in the episode by talking about Maggie’s car, but at this point, who the hell cares? This lead has no juice. You can hear the gears screeching.

Sam hedges as to the details of the meeting, but doesn’t lie that he was curious to know what Vicky knew about Malloy. In a significant detail, he doesn’t try to lie about it, presumably because he knows Vicky would contradict his story but, then again, that hasn’t stopped Roger from claiming she’s a liar just for repeating things he said to her. Points to Evans.

Oh, yeah, they start talking about Sam going on a drive last night.

Frank has such hatred in his eyes. He must really hate painters. Probably because his mother ran off with one.

So, unlike Roger, Sam doesn’t have any potential witnesses to provide him an alibi for 8:00 last night. Presuming Roger has been telling the truth since he got taken into custody, that means Sam now has the most opportunity of the many (2) suspects in the incident, regardless of how murky his motive may be.

I think Patterson may have needed the reminder.

Sam starts going on about what grand friends he and Vicky are, which is almost sweet.

Humorously, the painting of Betty Hanscom doesn’t come up once in this episode beyond this passing mention. This is despite the fact that Sam used the painting as a lure to get Vicky to meet with him.

It’s even stupider because the Garners are here and they both know about the painting and Vicky’s interest in it. Indeed, Frank has resolved to investigate the origins of Betty/B. Hanscom for Vicky. It would make complete sense for Frank to interrogate or investigate Sam based on these precepts, either in this scene or somewhere later in the episode, but no. Instead, he hastily excuses himself before Sam has even finished.

You can see how much Frank’s presence was contributing to the scene because things just keep happening as if he was never there to begin with. Even Hugh Franklin seems to have totally conked out in between them. It looks like he’s trying not to fall asleep.

In the end, Patterson lets Sam go. Just like that. Even Sam is confused. Like, he put on a tie for this. There was supposed to be some pageantry.

We’re never gonna hear from Harry again, huh? Anyway, it’s something that Patterson has the resources and the sense to put a tail on Sam, but he didn’t think to give Vicky some police protection given someone is trying very determinedly to kill her. But, of course, if he had done that, we would have no story. Sometimes, you have to accept little contrivances in order to appreciate fiction.

Regrettably, I’m having trouble identifying appreciable things here.

Act II brings us to nightfall at Collinwood. The clock is chiming a quarter past 6:00 and Vicky is pacing around the house all alone, despite Patterson advising her to, well, avoid being alone.

This is especially perplexing because we’ll presently learn Elizabeth is at home too, even if nobody else is. This gives the impression Vicky is willfully disregarding the sheriff’s advice. Maybe she’s afraid Liz will slip her another mickey.

This is all padding, of course. Clearly, they know where they want to end this abbreviated holiday week and they’re not sure how to adequately fill up the two episodes before that point, so we get 10,000 recaps, all this empty space and oh God no, here’s Frank.

If this narrative had any chutzpah, this is when he’d announce that he was the murderer and start strangling her.

It would be a cop-out of course, making it a character who didn’t even exist when the story began, but it’d certainly make Frank interesting. Instead, however, we see Frank immediately returning to form, proving what a Nice Guy he with gentle tact and grace.

Conard Fowkes has been dead almost 12 years. I take no joy in saying this, but sometimes he sounds like Bashful the Dwarf.

This is incidental, but it doesn’t help this character’s sex appeal that he keeps talking about his Dad. We already had to deal with him inviting his father to his and Vicky’s grilled cheese luncheon. By contrast, Burke only ever mentions his father when he’s reminiscing about how badly he beat him.

Okay, so that’s our first nag of the day, only one minute into the conversation. He seems to think he’s entitled to Vicky’s confidence despite only meeting her once a few days ago. He’s acting like they’ve been dating for weeks.

Frank is here to suggest someone else besides Roger may be behind the attempts on her life and, by extension, the murder of Bill Malloy.

He says this like he’s accusing her, by the way. Like it’s her fault she’s just so goddamned peril prone.

Except he did. By locking you in the East Wing. Are we being serious, right now? And that’s not even getting started on what he did to his father…

So, Frank’s theory is that Sam is the murderer. Hence why he got all inflamed while Patterson was interrogating him and began demanding the truth…

Oh? Oh, I’m sorry, that never happened. I mean, it’s why he got his testes in a twist and stormed out of the room like a petulant child before Sam had even finished speaking.

I know this probably isn’t intentional, but Frank immediately suspecting Sam seems very…elitist. Sure, he isn’t the reason Patterson called Sam in to question him, but Frank only had to hear his name and profession before he decided he was the most obvious candidate.

They already seeded a potential rift forming between the Garners back in Bangor, with Richard tacitly reminding Frank that they work for Elizabeth, not Vicky, indicating Frank’s infatuation for the little governess may eventually inspire him to work against his father.

What I’m getting at is, it would be cool if Frank continued to believe Roger was guilty, and even grew to detest and resent his father for cravenly covering Roger’s ass in the face of (what seems to be) obvious lies. He would tell Vicky he believed her, maybe even break attorney client privilege to keep her updated and safe. It’s not astonishingly sexy, but it’s a start.

But they’re planning to blow the whole ‘mystery’ part of this story out of the water in approximately 10 minutes, so of course no effort is being expended on that. This conversation about Sam, like Sam himself being interrogated, is just filler.

Vicky tells Frank Sam was earlier questioned in connection to Malloy’s death, because Burke had made accusations. This isn’t quite true. Sam was questioned because he was at the meeting at Roger’s office. Burke didn’t accuse Sam of having a role in his manslaughter conviction until he burst into Vicky’s dinner with the Evanses that night. I guess it comes to the same thing. It’s not like Burke’s vengeance has progressed in any meaningful way since then, unless you count trying to buy a competing business, even though this has nothing to do with actually clearing his name. He seems to have forgotten that that was his motivation.

Vicky points out that, even if it was Sam who tried to run her over, he couldn’t possibly have gotten into Collinwood to get into her room. At which point, Frank makes an upsettingly cogent suggestion.

Okay, so he’s also not disputing that Burke may be innocent of the manslaughter charge, a charge his father helped him go to prison for. He isn’t even doing this in a vindictive or malicious way, it’s like he forgot his family has anything to do with Burke. I guess the plan is to make Frank amiable with everybody, even his potential romantic rival. This is gonna be fun.

That’s adorable. He means “cahoots”, as in, accomplices. The suggestion being that they may have teamed up ten years ago, and they may have reprised that partnership now. Roger could’ve been the one who opened Vicky’s door, while Sam could’ve been the one who tried to run her over. Given Roger’s sudden appearance after Vicky screamed in the first instance, and Sam’s anxious behavior at the Blue Whale shortly before the hit and run, this is actually quite plausible.

For them, at least. It makes less for the audience. We’ve repeatedly seen Roger attempt to throw Sam under the bus, including for this hit and run business. It’s not at all a good way to treat your accomplice. This doesn’t necessarily prove the theory is false, of course. Roger could just be an idiot. Even so.

It’s possible that they aren’t in cahuets, and maybe the two attempts were independent and there was no coordination between them. It may also be possible that Roger’s telling the truth about how he found Malloy’s body at Lookout Point. It may be possible that everything anyone’s ever told us is true and maybe nobody killed Bill Malloy and this has all been a bunch of chaos-by-proxy spun out of an accident.

It would be a messy, improbable, nigh farcical conclusion to a story they’ve spent more than half the series run on at this point. But the solution they’re preparing for us is also messy, improbable and very farcical, so I don’t see what difference it would make.

I can’t imagine why. I mean, for all Burke’s faults, it was his zany plan that landed Roger in jail. This guy has done nothing but make poo-poo faces and deride the arts.

Have you ever seen a more sexless embrace? It’s like she’s his mother.

Anyway, Vicky agrees to meet him for dinner tonight. He resolves to pick her up later, so at least he has the good sense not to let her wander down the road alone at night again.

I’m gonna say it: I don’t think this guy is gonna best Burke. I don’t even think the writers want him to.

Elizabeth makes a surprise appearance to ask where David is, because this episode has seven characters in it as a testament to how the guy at the typewriter Knows What He’s Doing.

Vicky suggests David went to hang out with the spirits at the Old House, which is one of those insane moments in Dark Shadows’ first year that reminds you, no matter how much dreck you’re currently being served, this show is like nothing else that aired with or after it.

So, as you’d expect, Elizabeth, who knows that Vicky has recently been the target of two attempts on her life, asks her to go alone to the structurally unsound and purportedly haunted ruin in the woods. Because she cares.

Also, and I’m nitpicking at this point, but it’s odd that Liz doesn’t say a word about her brother currently cooling his heels in a jail cell. Given how much she devotes herself to protecting her family, you’d think she’d have strong feelings about this, or may even be beginning to believe her brother is guilty. I feel they could’ve devoted some of the time Vicky spent reading magazines to utilizing the movie star they have in the cast, but Dark Shadows has long since decided Liz’s ideal scene partner is the telephone.

She phones Matthew to see if David might have gone to visit him at his cottage. It’s unclear why anyone would assume David would do a thing like this, but the narrative has to get someplace in the next seven minutes. Don’t you know it’s almost Thanksgiving?

This is the first appearance of Matthew’s cottage since Liz visited him way at the beginning of this storyline. It’s kind of jarring seeing it again for what appears to be just another game of phone chat.

Matthew confirms David isn’t here. He suggests he went to the Old House. Liz, knowing Vicky is already going to check there, asks Matthew to check “the cliff”, by which I assume she means Widows’ Hill.

I know it’s disorienting, but this is the same episode with the Garners and Sam in it.

I’m struggling to find things of value to say here. But I just found one! So, this is a very utilitarian script. The many characters are one clue. We usually have no more than five. Very occasionally, you might see six. Seven is insane, especially at this point in the series. Why over clutter the episode like this?

Two reasons, one of which we discussed in the similarly crowded Episode 102: padding the episode out to sustain an important reveal for the last act. The other reason is, again, that this is a very utilitarian script.

“Utilitarian” (not to be confused with the philosophy of “utilitarianism”, which is not fun and I do not recommend) means prioritizing function over aesthetics. That is, hitting all your bases without any fancy batting tricks. Or something, I don’t know, if I knew sports I wouldn’t be writing a Dark Shadows blog.

Every character in this episode has a direct purpose, and everything they discuss likewise so. Recaps by definition are utilitarian. They don’t beautify the narrative world or add deeper insight to the characters. They simply dispense necessary information to the audience.

The glut of characters on screen? All to serve a utilitarian end. The Sheriff is here to question Sam, Richard Garner is here to dispense information to Frank, Sam is here to serve as a red herring for Vicky’s hit and run, Frank is here to hear Sam’s interrogation and tell Vicky he suspects he may have attacked her, Liz is here to get Vicky out of the house and looking for David, Matthew is here for similar reasons, and Vicky needs to be here for the ending.

It’s all disjointed and silly. Frank running off to Collinwood, Liz sending Vicky out alone, Liz calling Matthew on a baseless hunch that David may be at his place, Sam being in the episode at all…all of it is to serve a purpose. To get us to the end of the episode, to the next big reveal.

The downside of utilitarian writing, however, is that it can accomplish a lot, sure, but it won’t be fun to experience.

Frank comes back to start nagging Patterson, totally oblivious to the prominent gun hanging at his waist.

Frank is upset Sam wasn’t detained at the police station. They should bring Burke and Vicky in to painstakingly explain what “concrete evidence” is. That, or this guy’s Dad can explain to him what “due process” is. Isn’t he supposed to be a lawyer? Every chance they have to make Frank likable, they take the path less traveled by.

And that will make all the difference.

Frank starts crowing about how Sam may know something about the manslaughter case, at which point Richard hauls him off for a stern talking-to.

I like this beat, playing up Richard as the Collins consigliere. This all but confirms Richard knows the manslaughter case was dirty, and that if it were ever reopened, things may not look very sunny for Roger. It also further lays the groundwork for a Garner feud, with Frank going against his father and the Collinses to help Victoria, furthering their love story.

Because it’s a cool concept, however, it doesn’t go anywhere. But given all the other places this show is about to go to in the next month or so, I don’t think I’ll shed many tears over Garnergate being killed in the cradle.

So there’s more yelling, more “Dadding”, Frank takes off in a petulant huff. Garner goes after him, hopefully to kick his ass, and then Patterson, suitably chastised, does what Frank ordered him to do and calls Sam back to the office.

There is no reason why Frank’s whining to the sheriff, an elected law enforcement official, should persuade him to call back the man he already questioned once today. It’s not like any new information has manifested, nor is it likely Sam will reveal more than he already has. The Garners aren’t even around anymore, so he isn’t doing it to placate Frank.

The real answer, of course, is we have five minutes in the episode and we have to waste time somehow.

We’re reminded that Sam doesn’t own a car and Sam usually goes on foot. Why, Patterson wonders, did he borrow Maggie’s car last night for this random drive of his? And it’s stupid. It’s stupid, the whole thing is contrived nonsense, because it doesn’t make sense that Sam would randomly take his daughter’s car to drive to the beach. But it also doesn’t make sense that he would use the car of his beloved daughter to try to kill one his daughter’s friends. Neither solution is palatable, but I’m glad to take whichever one has the fewest consequences and, therefore, can be most quickly forgotten about.

The shame is, this is an excellent performance on Dave Ford’s part. I haven’t clocked a single error from him in the whole episode. He hasn’t been this perfect since his first weeks in the lead up to the mystery storyline. It’s a strong, layered performance. You feel Sam’s anger and indignation. He’s trying to put all this shit behind him. He wants an honest life. He isn’t his usual quivering mass of neuroses at the thought of being a suspect…he’s angry and disgusted that he would even be considered to do something so low as to target a person like Victoria Winters.

It’s incredible. Beautiful, in fact. It’s actually the best performance in this three-episode week. Fans who start watching with the Barnabas era tend to discount Ford’s talent, but these scenes show what a powerhouse of a performer he really was.

The pity is that this is an obvious narrative dead-end for reasons I don’t think are worth belaboring again. Still, for filler, it’s pretty good. And it’s tided us over all the way to the end.

This is the third time they’ve used the location footage of Matthew climbing the stairs to the Old House. It’s also the third time we’ve gone to the Old House, though the interior doesn’t appear in this episode. You’re probably wondering why Matthew is even here, since Liz sent him to look for David at the cliffs.

Here’s Vicky, somehow only now arriving at the Old House. Maybe Matthew’s cottage is closer. And here’s…

Did…did Matthew just, I…what the…it…who…I…

But what the hell? That isn’t even the biggest question.

WHAT THE GODDAMN CHRIST DOEST MATTHEW HAVE TO DO WITH THE GODDAMN FRIGGING MURDER OF BILL SHITTIN MALL…

Behind the Scenes Shenanigans

Ron Sproat is named as the episode’s writer in the end credits, but supplementary books indicate Francis Swann wrote this. I don’t pretend to be an expert on the styles of the different Dark Shadows writers (and it isn’t like the positively Sproat-penned next episode is Shakespeare or anything), but this does feel like a Swann script.

Francis Swann has one more episode to go, next Wednesday, episode 113. After that, a new writer will join to comprise the team with Sproat, forming the first working head writer/co-writer partnership since Art Wallace departed in October.

This Day in History- Tuesday, November 22, 1966

Economist Jelle Zijilstra becomes the 42^nd Prime Minister of the Netherlands, following the resignation of his Prime Minister Jo Cals in October.

Terrorists assassinate Amir Mohammad bin Said, the deputy ruler of Wahidi, Federation of South Arabia. Said’s death was achieved via a luggage bomb that took out all 25 passengers and three crew of Aden Airways DC-3 prior to take off.