“I’ve never seen anyone possessed quite like that.”
The Devil tells the truth, because he has nothing to lose. He’s not trying to protect your feelings, or your friendship. He doesn’t care. He sees you clearly, and he tells you what he sees.
Now, I’m not saying that everything the Devil says is true. He’s the Prince of Lies, after all, and misleading people is part of his job description. I’m just saying that the Devil is the only one who respects you enough to tell you the truth. Everybody else lies to you 24/7.
So here’s mad god Count Petofi — currently embodied as a young boy, for mythological reasons — and suddenly he’s doing battle with the Collins family’s hereditary mendacity.
“How eagerly you believe your own lies,” Petofi said, as he left Collinwood. “It will be fascinating to see which of you will be able to live, and face the truth… and which of you will die. Already, one by one, the lies are falling away.”
But he left Quentin with a special tribute. “You, at least, admit what you are,” he said. “Because you are closer to the truth than the others, I’m leaving you a very surprising, rather interesting present. You won’t like it at first. But you will thank me for it, in time.”
Mad gods say that kind of thing all the time. That’s why you shouldn’t invite them into your home, and then annoy them. Well, it’s one of the reasons.
Now Petofi’s using a fiendish weapon to spread his madness — the kiss of a young child. He’s infected young Jamison’s operating system, installing a malicious Trojan horse inside Collinwood that spreads his crackpot idea of justice by kissing each resident on the cheek.
To get close enough to plant the poison kiss, the Petofi-infused boy pretends that he’s still Jamison for a moment, presenting a picture of the frightened child who needs comfort. This gets him within smooching range — and as soon as he hits the target, he returns to supervillain mode, smiling archly as the madness takes hold. This is a chilling bit of scenecraft that they can do as many times as they like. I can’t get enough of it.
Naturally, like all the best Dark Shadows plot points, this is one hundred percent baffling horseradish, but we go along with it, because the results are surprising and entertaining. Petofi kisses his first customer, and Quentin comes home to find an elder brother who suddenly believes that he’s Edward, Lord Hampshire’s valet.
Quentin sits Edward down, and has the first of what is bound to be an endless number of headache-inducing conversations. It looks like Quentin is going to end up as the only rational member of the Collins family, which was not a role he ever expected to fill.
Quentin: Edward, when I told you there was something wrong with Jamison, you wouldn’t listen to me. But now you must!
Edward: I’m listening, sir.
Quentin: Oh, for heaven’s sakes, don’t call me sir!
Edward: Oh, but I must call you sir. If anything, I know my place, sir.
Quentin: But — this is your place! Look, you are Edward Collins. You live here, this is your home. Now, you tell me who you are.
Edward: I am Edward Collins.
Quentin sighs with relief.
Edward: The Earl of Hampshire’s gentleman, Edward!
And then he gets up and moves to the drinks cabinet.
Quentin asks, “What are you doing?” and Edward responds with a happy and utterly subservient smile. “Oh, it is the mark of a well-trained gentleman’s gentleman to anticipate his master’s wish!”
Suddenly, Count Petofi is in the room with them. “He is a gem, isn’t he?” the young man beams. This is what Quentin’s life is like now.
Quentin storms over to the pint-sized Petofi, and snaps, “Why are you doing this to us?”
Jamison gives his uncle an appreciative once-over. “My first instincts about you were right, weren’t they?” he declares. “Yes, you are that man — that rare man, who faces the truth! You don’t try to pretend that I’m Jamison gone mad — because you, of course, know better.”
And now that becomes the official position of the show — that Quentin is special, the man who understands the kind of story that he’s in. Of course, Quentin’s always been special, as of the first day he dropped the stoic ghost persona and really let loose. But he used to be the trickster rogue, lying and stealing and manipulating his way towards what he hoped would be a relaxing and prosperous ruin.
But now that’s changed. Now Quentin has learned that Jenny had two children, a son and a daughter, and that his son has died, another victim of the werewolf curse. Everyone was keeping that information from him — to protect him, maybe, or the children, or the family name, or just to protect the tolerable status quo. Learning about it, and accepting it, has done something very dangerous to Quentin. It’s made him grow up.
So here he is, the young rebel — not tamed, but burdened. He may be growing up, but that just makes him realize that he lives in a world of children.
For example: With Charity’s help, Quentin bundles Edward upstairs and locks him in the tower room, just because what the hell else can he do. Once the door’s shut, Quentin tries to explain what’s happening.
Quentin: We’re all going to be exposed for what we really are, and there’s nothing we can do about it.
Charity: Yes, there is! We can pray!
Quentin: (laughing) Pray, huh?
Charity: Now you’re laughing at me. That isn’t worthy of the real Quentin Collins. Very few people know him… but I do.
Quentin: Oh?
Charity: Yes. I know what you’re really like, Quentin. Sometimes I even know what you’re going to say before you say it.
Quentin: What am I going to say?
Charity: You’re going to say: Charity, let’s go back to the drawing room and have a brandy.
Quentin: Sorry. You’re wrong. I’m going to say thank you, Miss Trask, and good night. I have to go somewhere, right now.
Charity: Where? Who are you going to see?
Quentin: That doesn’t concern you.
Charity: Yes, it does! Anyhow, I know. You’re going into town to see some slut! And I even know why. It’s because I am too much of a lady. Too much of a lady for Quentin Collins!
And then she slaps him across the face, and walks away.
She’s delusional, of course. She knows two Quentins — the romantic Quentin of her fantasies, and the degraded Quentin of her fears — but she doesn’t know the real Quentin, and she doesn’t know herself. Young Petofi takes care of that, with a kiss on the cheek.
And Charity finds what is apparently the essential truth of her life — that really she longs to be free, to sing and dance and drink and have some goddamn fun for once. She accomplishes this in an incredibly unlikely way, namely: taking on the persona of Carl’s insane Cockney showgirl fiancee, who made a brief appearance a couple months ago and then got herself murdered by a vampire.
Pansy and Charity never met, so it’s quite odd to say that this is what Charity really wants to be. It is also amazing, for many reasons which I’m not going to get into right now. We will speak more of Pansy in the coming days.
But there’s one more member of the family we have to attend to today — cousin Barnabas, vampire, time traveler, and formerly the undisputed main character of Dark Shadows. Quentin invites Petofi Jr up to his room, and Barnabas is there, trying to get a handle on the situation.
At first, he speaks to the boy as if he’s Jamison, but Petofi won’t play along. “Oh, Mr. Collins,” the boy sighs, “aren’t you taking a great risk being here now? Even though you have talents of appearing and disappearing at will.”
“I had to be here, didn’t I?” Barnabas sighs. “To meet you, Count Petofi.”
The boy lights up like Christmas. “Another realist!” he beams. “Oh, that does please me.”
Then they get into an argument, of course, about who owns the Hand, and who runs Jamison’s body, and things get a bit bogged down, but the point is: Petofi doesn’t kiss Barnabas. There is no hard truth that Barnabas doesn’t already know.
So Barnabas and Quentin get to stay as they are, while everyone else is destined for recasting. That is actually how the show works from now on — there’s Barnabas, Quentin, Julia and Angelique, and everyone else can come and go and play whatever character is available. There’s even a new Roger Davis character downstairs in the drawing room right now.
But Quentin and Barnabas are special, and we know that, because the serpent speaks the truth. Count Petofi is the master puppeteer now, concocting crises and revolutions on a scene-by-scene basis, but even the puppeteer needs to recognize who are the puppets, and who is the audience. He’s putting on this little show for the “realists”, the people who understand how Dark Shadows works. That means Quentin, and Barnabas, and us.
Now, on with the show! You’ll love it, I know.
Tomorrow: It’s in His Kiss.
Dark Shadows bloopers to watch out for:
When Jamison, Quentin and Edward are talking in the drawing room, somebody’s shadow can be seen passing by the foyer mirror.
Tate tells Jamison, “I came the minute Aristede came for me.” Except he pronounces it “Aristeedy”.
In Quentin’s room, we see Barnabas’ reflection in the mirror. Tomorrow, Barnabas tells Evan, “But I cannot look at myself in the mirror, remember that!” They do this kind of flip-flopping on vampire reflections all the time.
Quentin tells Barnabas, “It’s difficult to think of him as a child.” Barnabas’ reply: “We must not lose sight of the fact that — that the mind, is possessed by — by Count Petofi. We must find a way to get that captive mind, and return the body to its rightful owner.”
On the phone, Charity says, “I must reach the Rushmore Sanitarium immediately. It’s an emore — emergency!”
Footnote:
I can’t do it justice in screenshots and text, but Jamison’s line “He is a gem, isn’t he?” is one of the (intentionally) funniest moments of the entire series.
Tomorrow: It’s in His Kiss.
— Danny Horn
Dark Shadows Every Day 
I’ve always been amazed at how well David Henesy took this bag of wonderful insanity and ran with it. It’s truly disturbing how he makes you completely forget this is supposed to be a twelve-year-old boy. He plays it with this almost sexual dynamism that makes me really question what kind of human being I am for enjoying it so much!
OK I haven’t seen ahead. The funniest thing to me would be if Jamison kissed someone and they stayed exactly who they were. I’m not sure how Edward thinks he’s a manservant as his true self though. Of course he likes everything just so, is a supporter of the status quo and the like, but he’s also incredibly arrogant and at the very least I’d see him as the butler who runs the house rather than the gentleman’s personal gentleman who gets such fun assignments as helping the lord bath and shave and dress.
It seems the truth they chose was an actor’s choice….”Who would you truthfully like to play here?”
The results were wonderful for both Louis and Nancy, but Grayson already had her best role….no change necessary.
Perhaps Edward is tapping into his insecurity and inferiority complex, especially now that Judith is the mistress of Collinwood. His entire identity has been taken away from him, and he feels emasculated. He probably feels that he is no better than a servant.
I think that Quentin and Barnabas are immune to the Petofi game because the audience wants them as they are, and wouldn’t want to believe that they were living a lie and were actually people other than what is presented. Why strip them of the very qualities that made them so appealing to the general audience to begin with?
There is an instance, down the road a bit, where Barnabas is possessed and used as a pawn, during the Leviathan story, and many fans seem to feel that the Barnabas character was misused in this capacity during that time.
Not to get too far afield, but it’ll be interesting (well, if I stretch to term) to watch those episodes again. I think Barnabas is intended to be the sinister character he once was. It obviously fails so they imply that he was forced to behave as he did.
I don’t think Edward sees himself as a butler. I think Petofi was showing that he is a total slave to social requirements and expectations, and as such cannot act beyond how he thinks society dictates, even to the detriment of his own family.
I just rewatched this episode. It’s one of my favorites, so of course, it’s a Violet Welles script. The diabolical look on Jamison’s face when Charity transforms into Pansy is wonderful.
Edmonds is only in two more episodes before Edward returns to normal. The “spell” serves a production purpose of explaining the absence (locked in the tower) and a plot purpose of raising the stakes in Quentin’s battle against Petofi. The spell on Charity is less plot critical, so I wonder if it was something Welles added for a “bit of a laugh.” She scripted Pansy’s farewell performance episode, so she might have enjoyed writing for the character.
Another small touch that might have been entirely Welles’s doing: When Barnabas meets with Quentin in the latter’s room, he sees the picture Quentin has put out of Jenny from before their marriage. It’s a very touching scene, one that redefines their relationship as more than just a casual fling that Quentin quickly grew bored of. We see a sentimental side to Quentin, perhaps for the first time, and it’s one that will remain with the character. Quentin actually grieving for his son and visiting his grave is a good touch, as well. Again, none of this is mandatory to the plot, so it could all just be a nice character moment from a writer who excelled at them.
Quentin also describes his daughter which means he has at least seen her. I was beginning to be annoyed that he apparently had not bothered to look in on her at all even while mourning his son.
Most things start a lot earlier than people are told they do, but the Quentin and Charity scene almost has to be a very early use of the word “slut” on TV. Of course, soap operas could fly below the radar with a lot of things, but the word wasn’t even common on THEM, was it?
One of the many reasons I’m sentimental about DARK SHADOWS is that it almost has to be the first place I heard the word “possessed” (as a supernatural term). Probably during this particular sub-plot.
Yeah, “slut” was a LOT more shocking back then. Nice people didn’t use words like that.
The word “slut” used to slay the studio audiences of Saturday Night Live in the late seventies.
But in the nineteenth century, the word was used to mean “bitch”. One would have thought that Quentin would have used a term like “harlot” or “strumpet” instead.
SNL Weekend Update, around 1977: Dan Aykroyd said “Jane, you ignorant slut!” to Jane Curtain every week, and it killed every time. My favorite predictable moment of the show.
I love how Petofi is barely able to hide his giddy little smirk.
Thayer David’s Petofi maintained a facade of dignity and grace…but David Henesy’s Petofi is a real piece of work, and such a trickster, ping-ponging personalities, as needed.
Take away the frailty of age, and look out! He’s letting his real malevolence shine.
Edward’s truth being an upper servant works for me. After all, he’s not really his own man, is he? Unlike Quentin, who’s spent his adulthood wandering the globe, shagging, drinking, laughing, summoning devils, etc. only to satisfy his latest whim, Edward has been the hardworking custodian of the family’s name and reputation. He cleaned up the Quentin/Laura/Jenny scandal so thoroughly I’m surprised he didn’t get housemaid’s knee. And his primary reason wasn’t to make anyone happier – it was his G.D. duty, down to disposing of the dirty linen.
Edward enjoys putting people in their place, but there’s nobody so conscious of class and station than a good servant. In “Upstairs, Downstairs” and “Gosford Park,” the valets and ladies’ maids were always a bit snooty toward the house servants.
“Slattern!”
It seems as if Petofi’s magic spell isn’t necessarily showing the ‘truth’ of the victims, so much as turning the characters upside down; Edward, the pompous ‘lord of the manor’ becomes the servile, docile lackey – Charity, the virginal and proper lady is turned into a worldly-wise exhibitionist. Shame that Joan Bennett took a break, would have been interesting to see what Judith’s opposite was…
Probably Flora from the 1840 storyline.
Or how about a Gypsy? Hanging with Magda! I bet Joan and Grayson would have been great together!
I feel sure that a DS episode never used the word “slut” before. That it is Charity Trask who uses it is the signal that she is going to become what she despises and perhaps most fears becoming. And when Petofi/Jamison uses the word “slattern” in reference to Pansy/Charity, well, that is an old-fashioned equivalent of “slut.”
Some very interesting comments here. As for Edward’s new found identity as a “gentleman’s gentleman”, he isn’t just a servant, but the principal servant of the Earl of Hampshire. Now this could be interpreted two ways. As Petofi/Jamison is a trickster figure, and he won entry into Collinwood by posing as a friend of the Earl when he met Edward, Petofi may just enjoy reducing Edward to the lackey of said Earl. It would then be a sarcastic play on Edward’s status-obsessed nature.
There is no reason to believe that Petofi was telling the truth about the effects of the “gift” he left- in fact he could very well be turning these self-righteous people into the most embarrassing upside-down caricatures of who he knows they want to be seen as. In this scenario, they aren’t becoming their true selves, they are acting out farcical versions of themselves designed for maximum humiliation.
Alternatively, we are seeing the “real” personalities emerge from these repressed Victorians, and Edward has a deeply sublimated same-sex love for The Earl of Hampshire. He is therefore manifesting as a more effeminate (note the changed register of voice) subservient and close companion to the Earl. Or, he has a repressed desire to abandon his taxing role of all-knowing Patriarch and simply serve someone else, perhaps even masochistically.
I’m surprised that they got away with the use of the word slut in 1969. Talk about getting crap past the radar.
I can see why Trask would be unable to appreciate Charity’s Pansy Faye-ification. But why Quentin would lock Edward away I can’t imagine. The Collinses are chronically short of servants, and Quentin’s greatest joy is laughing at his older siblings.
Louis Edmond’s performance as Edward the butler reminds me of some of the YouTube clips I’ve seen of his much later character (don’t know the name) on All My Children.
I was hoping Quentin would kick Charles Delaware Tate in the ass after escorting him out the door just because Tate is played by Roger Davis. I’m not sure how long it’s been since Davis’s last appearance but it wasn’t long enough.
I underestimated the writers a few episodes ago – they did indeed remember to bury Quentin’s son in the woods.
I didn’t notice Tate’s initial pronunciation of “Aristeedy” the first time I saw this episode, and I probably didn’t the second time I saw it either, because my only recollection of it is when he addresses Aristede directly as such much later, when it almost seems as though they are becoming friends, and for this reason I took it as an affectionate diminutive at the time.
Apart from wardrobe, it’s puzzling that there isn’t any change in Roger Davis’s appearance when he appears as a new character. His characterisation is also roughly the same as well.
Nancy Barrett is glorious as Charity/Pansy, and David Henesy’s possession is also sensational. The current episodes are so good.