“You cannot escape from the dead!”
It’s one of those complex evenings. In a secret underground crypt near Gallows Hill, a Cockney music hall performer with psychic powers places a tall glass case on an outcropping that contains a severed human head. It’s a terrible thing, the head, and it’s taken control of her senses.
The corpse in the corner grows restless. It rises, and approaches its long-gone head, grasping for its return. The head opens its long-dead eyes, and glares at the mentalist. They’re eager to be reunited, head to body.
“No, you must wait,” the woman says to the headless fiend, taking its cold hands in hers. “It is not time yet.”
Parking the body a few feet away, she looks to the head for instructions. “Now you must tell me, master,” she breathes. “What more is to be done?” They lock eyes, and merge minds.
“Yes, someone must help us,” she nods. “Someone very special. I understand, master.” Then she puts a velvet bag over the case, like it’s a parakeet cage.
So that’s where we’re at these days, this weird gravity well of pantomime horror, and ordinarily I would be enjoying it tremendously, but they keep playing that Dead of Night music cue, and I just can’t bear it. I understand why they’re using it, but it doesn’t work and I can’t wait for them to stop, if they ever do. It’s music that’s specifically designed to make you feel anxious and uneasy, which you’d imagine would be a positive asset for a scene about a doctor’s underground waiting room filled with animate body parts, but it’s distracting, and I’m bracing myself for the trumpet fart-splatter instead of paying attention to how silly the scene is.
Still, I have to admit that I like the body. Judah Zachery is an unpredictable mix of villain and monster, like he’s constructed from factory-second antagonist parts. The body is a Frankenstein-style pantomime horse serial killer that strangles people and has to be led around by the hand, because it doesn’t have eyes. The head is a mute hypnotist knickknack that pretends to be inanimate when people are looking, like a mastermind Buzz Lightyear.
Unfortunately, we want a little more out of a villain than silent glaring, because — as weird as it is to say, in this scene — this is still a soap opera, and the prime directive for soap characters is to talk as much as possible, to fill up the time between Moisturelle commercials. The best villains on Dark Shadows are all chatterboxes, like Count Petofi and Reverend Trask and Barnabas Collins.
Happily, Barnabas is showing up to work today, getting together with Julia for another round of Junior Detectives. This is a story-productive game that these two play, and it’s one of my favorite things on Dark Shadows, because a) it’s fun watching the two of them saying urgent things to each other, and b) it moves the story forward. Other characters stand around and talk about how worried they are, but Barnabas and Julia are all business.
Now, one thing that’s bizarre about this particular scene is that Julia, in the foreground, is sitting down and facing away from the camera for almost two minutes, which I would have thought was impossible. This would be unusual for any scene — you want to see the characters’ faces, that’s why they have makeup — but it’s especially weird for Julia, because Grayson Hall needs to face the camera like she needs to breathe oxygen. She will act her way through you, if she has to. But here they are, committing to a shot that looks like Barnabas is having a momentous conversation with a Tribble.
“We’ve got to find out more about Judah Zachery, if we’re to understand any of this!” he says. He’s decided that this headless body thing is connected to their time-travel mission, and if Barnabas says it, then that makes it true, because of protagonism. He has the power to postulate whatever he likes, and that counts as story progression.
“I’m beginning to remember reports about the witchcraft trials in Bedford,” he says. “I was just a boy at the time, I never took them very seriously. But if indeed they are based on truth, and Judah Zachery walks this earth, then men will find out the true meaning of evil.”
I’m not sure what he means here — it sounds like he’s saying that the trials happened when he was a boy, but Judah’s trial was in 1692, and Barnabas couldn’t have been born any earlier than the 1760s. But I suppose when you’re the main character, you can begin to remember anything you like.
But memory’s not for everyone, and sometimes it can be hazardous. For example, over at Collinwood, young Daniel Collins is coming to grips with an inconvenient truth. There’s a woman staying there who’s calling herself Valerie, but Daniel and the audience recognize her as the wicked witch Angelique, who began her reign of terror forty-five years ago and hasn’t finished yet.
As an ageless supernatural hellbeast, Angelique runs into an awkward situation like this every so often. It’s one of the consequences of pairing immorality and immortality, especially if you return to the scene of the crime every four to five decades. It catches up with you.
“Angelique! I remember you!” he screams, trying to back away. “You can’t deny it! Those eyes!” People must say that to Lara Parker all the time.
It’s a strong moment for Daniel, a character whose actual storyline happened in the interval between time travel trips. He was the little boy in 1795, and now he’s the dippy, dying oldster of 1840. In fact, I thought he was supposed to be confined to the tower room, but apparently today he’s just puttering around the mansion, getting into trouble.
Having recognized Angelique, he starts putting the pieces together. “The witch. The witch! Ben Stokes testified to your death, but they did not believe him! But you are Angelique! You are! And Barnabas — if you have remained the same, has he?”
Angelique closes the drawing room doors, and smiles. “You have an excellent memory, Daniel,” she says. “Why, you were only a child when Barnabas and I –”
“No, it cannot be!” he jumps, his worst suspicions confirmed. “Why have you both come back? How have you both come back?”
She paces towards him. “You don’t really want to know the answer to that, do you? Wouldn’t you rather just forget?”
“I’ll never forget!” he yells, banging piteously on the doors. “Help! Someone help me!”
It’s a great scene, and very soap opera, in the best sense — characters who remember their history, caroming off each other in surprising ways. They take their time with this one, spending a full seven and a half minutes on it — the end of act 1, all of act 2, and spilling over into the beginning of act 3. They know they’ve got something good here, and they resist the temptation to stick a Dead of Night Judah Zachery riff in the middle of it.
Angelique’s been wandering the world for the past several decades, but apparently she’s kept up with current events, because it only takes a moment for her to ensorcell up Daniel’s worst evening. What follows is one of the noisiest hypnosis scenes in the history of the dramatic arts.
With a wave of her arms, Angelique invites in Daniel’s dead wife Harriet. “Wouldn’t you like to hear her speak?” she asks Daniel. “Wouldn’t you like to hear her scream, the way she screamed the night you murdered her? Look into her eyes, Daniel! Has she forgiven you? No! She remembers the night you murdered her, on Widows Hill!”
“Stop it!” Daniel screams, and it’s a double blow — a reunion with the wife, and the knowledge that someone knows his terrible secret. This is what happens when you go around remembering things.
But in the end, this is only a zap from the neuralyzer. Angelique could have left Daniel curled up in a fetal position, whimpering and wordless, but instead she urges him to forget the conjugal visit she’s conjured up.
He agrees, and then everything’s fine — he actually seems happier post-haunting, introducing Leticia to their new guest as a delightful surprise. For Angelique’s first spell of the storyline, it’s a merciful one, causing temporary distress but ultimately leaving Daniel in peace.
Meanwhile, Julia’s gone on a late-night whirlwind trip to the Bedford newspaper office, where they loaded her up with all the Zachery facts she could carry. She’s got the whole story written down in her notebook — the corruption, the coven, the murders, the mask, the terror, the trial, and the mysterious woman who brought Jay-Z down and got him beheaded. This has got to be one of the most successful Junior Detective meetings of all time.
Julia tells the whole story, to help Barnabas generate some new story-productive memories. She says that all three judges in the tribunal died mysterious deaths, and the members of their families died too.
“That’s the important thing to remember, Barnabas,” she says, “that the members of their families died as well… because one of the judges was a Collins. His name was Amadeus Collins.”
“That’s why I heard so much discussion of the trials, when I was a boy!” Barnabas says. “Amadeus was my great-uncle! I also remember that his son, and his son’s wife, died in a strange accident soon after that.” This is a terribly dangerous thing to remember; pretty soon, someone’s going to turn up and start showing people Harriet again.
And here she is, the terror of the late 18th, arriving at the Old House for a tense tête-à-tête with Barnabas. It’s the first time he’s seen Angelique in this incarnation, and it brings up more bad memories — some of them from the future, which isn’t usually where you get them from.
Angelique just walks into the house like she owns the place, which it’s possible that she technically does, and Barnabas gives the requisite you-couldn’t-have-survived-but-I-did-ta-DAH! response.
Barnabas: Angelique!
Angelique: You mustn’t call me that, my darling. I’m known as Valerie, now. I was afraid that I might be recognized if I used my own name. I was thinking of you, as I always do. I’ve always protected him, dear sister.
Barnabas: That’s a lie.
Angelique: Oh, come, Barnabas, don’t be bitter. I don’t want to make a bad impression on my new sister-in-law.
Barnabas: Get out of this house.
Angelique: And go back to Collinwood, crying because my husband was not pleased to see me? Gabriel would be most sympathetic.
It’s marvelous, another helping of back-to-basics Dark Shadows drama, with the kind of dialogue that Sam Hall can still write, when he feels like it. I can’t imagine that Sam really cares that much about the mad monster party going on in the underground crypt; this is more his taste. It’s mine, too.
The interesting thing is that this isn’t the Angelique who jumped straight from 1796 to 1968, following Vicki to the future, and arriving at Collinwood with murder on her mind. For that Angelique, all of the betrayals and heartaches were still fresh and painful; she thought about vengeance and nothing else.
But this seems like an Angelique who’s had forty-five years to think things over, who’s traveled through time the slow way, one day at a time.
Barnabas: Why have you come back?
Angelique: Nothing in the world could make you believe that I love you, could it? And yet I do love you, Barnabas.
Barnabas: That’s another lie!
Angelique: I have changed. Let me show you that I’ve changed. Let me be with you.
Barnabas: And share what I call my life? My life that is your doing?
Angelique: I gave you immortality.
Barnabas: You gave me a thousand nights of agony!
And the exciting thing is that she seems like she believes her own crazy, that she really does love Barnabas, and just wants him to forget the past and reunite, somehow. She doesn’t have a plan, this time. She just shows up at the Old House, and hopes.
So I admit it, I’m a sucker for scenes where Barnabas and Angelique talk about their relationship. This is another one of my favorite things about the show, and they can keep doing it forever, as far as I’m concerned.
Barnabas: So we are at our usual stalemate.
Angelique: You caused it, I did not.
Barnabas: In spite of your delusions, do you seriously think that I’m going to accept you again?
Angelique: You are going to have to, Barnabas.
Barnabas: I’ll let everyone know about you.
Angelique: If you do, you will be the one who is destroyed.
Barnabas: Daniel will remember you.
Angelique: He has been taken care of.
Barnabas: What have you done to him?
Angelique: Oh, he is well. I did nothing, I restrained myself because I knew how angry you would be. I was thinking of you, you see. I am always thinking of you.
That’s my favorite part, that she spared Daniel’s sanity just so she could make this point in this argument. She’s restrained herself from slaughtering his family, and she presents that to him as a gift, like a cat leaving a dead mouse on your pillow.
As she leaves, she doesn’t stop at the door and whirl around and threaten to kill people. She just leaves. This might actually be a new Angelique that we haven’t seen before.
So this is what memory is for, as perilous as it may be — Sam Hall reaching back into the past, remembering what the show is about, and reminding the audience that it’s not all severed heads these days. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it, and those who can are inspired to repeat it even more. It’s gonna get repeated either way; we might as well enjoy it.
Tomorrow: An Armed Society.
Dark Shadows bloopers to watch out for:
During Barnabas’ first scene with Julia, he says the line, “Bedford was an important port at that time.” I don’t know where that line was originally supposed to be, but in this conversation it’s a complete non sequitur.
When Angelique chases Daniel into the corner to start working on him, the lights go green a bit early. The green light quickly turns off, and then back on at the correct moment, about forty seconds later.
During the hypnosis, Angelique says, “She will come to you to seek her revenge!” Then she checks the teleprompter to find her next line. In the brief pause, Daniel shouts, “Don’t let her –” and then Angelique continues, “She will not be denied her revenge!” Daniel cries, “Don’t let her come near me!”
When Leticia enters the drawing room, we can see the camera moving in the foyer. The shadow of the current camera then passes over the back of Daniel’s chair.
Julia tells Barnabas that the mask of Baal is “a jeweled mask that he used — that he wore during his rituals.”
Behind the Scenes:
The opening narration is spoken by Norman Parker, the actor who plays the headless body in today’s episode. This is very unusual; people who have non-speaking roles don’t usually do the narration.
Harriet’s ghost is played by Gaye Edmond, in her first appearance on the show. After this, she’ll come back in January as Stella Young, for four episodes. This is her only credit on IMDb, and she didn’t appear on Broadway according to IBDb, so that pretty much sums up everything I know about Gaye Edmond.
The fan-written Dark Shadows 1840 Concordance, which I wrote about in Episode 1008: This Terrible Truth, incorrectly listed Grayson Hall as playing the ghost of Harriet Collins, and I believed it for a long time. The 1840 Concordance was published in 1987, and was based on notebooks, memories and off-air audiotapes; the 1840 episodes weren’t available to fans until it was released on videotape in 1992, and then broadcast on the Sci-Fi Channel in 1994. The ghost of Harriet doesn’t speak in this episode, so they didn’t know who played her. The idea that Grayson Hall played Harriet comes from a clue in episode 1111, when a raving Daniel chokes Julia, thinking that she’s Harriet.
Tomorrow: An Armed Society.
— Danny Horn
Dark Shadows Every Day 
When all is said and done, Danny, I do hope you compile and publish all of these “Dark Shadows Everyday” entries – I, for one, would love to have the chance to buy them as a collection in whatever format. They are a consistent and compelling joy to read and I thank you making them happen!
This blog has certainly enhanced my revisit to Collinwood.
hear hear, ejluther!
This was good episode and great review of it. I think I’m a little more enthused for the Judah storyline than you are, but yes, my emotional heart was with the B & A scenes, too.
While 1840 doesn’t always hold together so well, there are flashes of the best of DS like this one.
In that drawing room scene with Daniel and Angelique, there’s a slight story inconsistency. How would Daniel have found out the truth about Barnabas? Only a few people even knew of his death: Joshua, Naomi, Josette, Natalie Dupres, Ben, and the couple of servants who carried the coffin to the secret room. Sure, Millicent was bitten, but wouldn’t the memory of that have worn off like it did for Vicki and Carolyn in 1968 after Dr. Lang cured Barnabas? The 1795 story left the impression that in the end, only Joshua and Ben knew the secret of Barnabas. Those who don’t completely remember the past are doomed to retcon it.
That scene where Julia has her back to the camera for a couple minutes while she and Barnabas are sizing things up, that may have been to show off the costume Barnabas has, that whipped cream thing-a-ma-bobby in the middle breast of his suit where his tie would normally be, the way it magnifies the light like he had a whole can of vanilla cake frosting sprayed on.
In 1897 Edith indicated that the truth about Barnabas had been passed down through the generations. It was the big “secret” that everyone wanted her to tell them back (or in this case forward) in the day. We can infer that Joshua told Daniel before he died, just so that Daniel could be aware that if a Barnabas Collins from England showed up that something was very wrong.
Vicki was Daniel’s governess and she did save him from being killed by Nathan Forbes, so she had to have made an impression. The news that she and Ben claimed Angelique was the witch and Ben’s declaration that Angelique was dead followed by Angelique showing up alive at the trial had to be the talk of the town. Daniel seeing Angelique alive and well and not looking a day older, added to having been told “the secret” makes his guess about her and Barnabas a not bad one. You have to ignore the idea that he didn’t realize Barnabas couldn’t be a descendant of the original Barnabas, but Daniel was pretty out of it mentally, so it’s conceivable.
I got the impression that Daniel believed Barnabas had “gone to England.” He’s just stunned by the sight of Angelique, believing she was the “witch” (something I imagine Ben likely sharing with him over the years, if not the specific details about Barnabas). The idea that Angelique has “returned” leads him to put two and two together.
I also like that Daniel mentions Angelique’s eyes. Lara Parker’s eyes are, as any sighted person can tell you, stunning and the writers quickly leapt upon it as a distinguishing feature of Angelique’s (Dirk describes Angelique by her “eyes,” which immediately clues Barnabas to her return in 1897). I love how sometimes unique actor traits become associated with a character
“Vicki was Daniel’s governess and she did save him from being killed by Nathan Forbes, so she had to have made an impression.”
I suppose that we are to believe that almost the exact same thing happened to Phyllis Wick in the original time line. Daniel had to be saved for the rest of the family onward to survive.
Its possible that Phyllis Wick survived in the original timeline. That she was either never brought to trail or was released. Phyllis Wick would certainly have had a better lawyer, less cause for suspicion and less of a self-destructive defense.
If the trial ended quickly, Nathan Forbes courtship of Millicent would have ended when Suki showed up and Daniel would have been safe. Its vaguely possible that a whole list of people who died when Vicki went back to 1795 might have otherwise lived: Abigail, Nathan, Suki, Naomi and even Reverend Trask.
“Its possible that Phyllis Wick survived in the original timeline.”
That’s true, but then again didn’t Barnabas tell Julia that Phyllis Wick was to be hanged on the same day as he was chained in his coffin?
You are correct. He did tell Julia that after Vicki returned from the past. He also claimed in the same conversation that Phyllis Wick “knew his secret” which I don’t believe Vicki actually did.
But clearly she didn’t survive.
In the 1897 storyline, there are constant references to the “family secret” that was passed down first to Daniel and then to Gabriel then to 1897 Edith where it died out. In the 1897 episodes it seems like they intended that Joshua had told Daniel everything. (see episode 701).
Since Edith knew it, I assumed that Joshua, possibly on his deathbed, changed his mind and decided he better tell Daniel in case Barnabus escaped or was released…
What I want to know is how can Angelique, who was killed, still be alive and running around? I could rationalize her being a ghost that was cursed to materialize every few years on their anniversary, but that clearly is not the case.
Bedford didn’t even exist until 1729. It would have been a minimum 140 mile round trip for Julia. Judah Zachery’s body being buried in Collinsport would have indicated the trial was there or they were so frightened of him in Bedford that they buried him 200 miles away in a secret vault with giant cross holding down the lid.
The best part of the episode was Angelique’s treatment of Juila. Julia doesn’t say a word, Angelique is dripping with contempt though and its clear that while she doesn’t credit Julia with being a rival, she has already decided Julia has to go in a bad way. And Julia being Julia knows when its time to just be quiet.
There is also that tender Angelique moment when she explains that she restrained herself from doing the normal thing of killing Daniel outright because she was thinking of Barnabas and how it might upset him just when they were resuming married life.
She has killed just about his entire immediate family plus any woman who he even looked at twice, made him a vampire and paid her respects to his grave on a regular basis while he was trapped for 45 years in a coffin. She wants him to see the vampire curse as her gift to him of immortality. She spares Daniel and in her mind he can’t even find a tiny bit of mercy for her.
@JamesB — Yes, DS has always had a weird chronological logic, with some “nights” lasting days, and this is another example. Barnabas asks Julia to go to Bedford “that night,” which she does and still returns “that night.” Even if it’s late fall in 1840, sunset would’ve been around 5. So Barnabas could at the earliest had asked her to leave at around 6. Even with modern transportation (the automobile), I doubt she could have made the round trip in one night.
It’s not surprising that Julia was able to make a round trip from Collinsport to Bedford in just a matter of hours, especially when you consider that Windcliff was supposedly 100 miles away from Collinsport, but Maggie, Liz, and later David, and Hallie/Carrie were able to walk the distance in just a few hours.
I remember that One Life to Live took two weeks to tell the happenings of a 24-hour period back in the early 70s. It was an eventful 24-hour period.
Bedford, Massachusetts wasn’t incorporated until 1729, but the areA was first settled in 1640, so it’s entirely possible that Judah and his followers had set up shop there.
However, Bedford is landlocked, so I have no idea how it could’ve been an important port “back in the day”! 😉
NEW Bedford, Massachusetts, on the other hand, was a hugely important seaport in the whaling industry (Moby-Dick begins there)…
Mind you, none of this answers the question of how Julia was able to make a round-trip journey from Collinsport to there and back — by carriage, no less! — in the same night…
Maybe she hitched a ride with the Pony Express? Nah.
She used a hole in the plot to get there and back so quickly! 😜
Someone removed the bleeder valve, so they couldn’t use the brakes.
LOL!!! 🤣
Like Logansport, which doesn’t exist as a town in Maine(but does in Indiana?!), Bedford is likely supposed to be a nearby community, fictional, as opposed to the actual Bedford, Mass.
And Julia being Julia knows when its time to just be quiet.
And knows when to say something. Angelique’s just sniping away, line after snapped out line, and Julia is just putting on her cloak, exchanging glances with Barnabas, and seemingly ignoring her. Then, just as she’s opening the door, she looks Angie straight in those eyes and says “I know everything about you.” Then leaves.
That’s my Julia. She knows how to make an entrance, and an exit.
@Percys Owner and @James B.:
The 1897 story was another revisioning of 1795.
Why would Joshua go to the trouble of fictionalizing the family history if he intended to hand the secret down? If you pass such information down through generations, it’s no longer a secret — particularly if it falls into the hands of someone he doesn’t even know. What if some member of the Collins family along the way is not really trustworthy, and wants to exploit the secret for his own gain, like Will Loomis did in parallel time 1970?
The fact that there’s a secret room in the mausoleum that nobody else knows about and that Barnabas is chained up there ensures that the secret remains a secret. The Collins family of 1967 didn’t know about it, until David stumbled onto it accidentally (with a little help from Sarah). Otherwise, only an outsider, Willie Loomis, knew its contents.
I think they constructed that Edith/secret story just to give Barnabas a dramatic entrance to Collinwood in 1897, a touch of danger for our time-traveling hero to overcome.
I suppose the point of the “family secret” would be to keep anyone from even accidentally stumbling upon the hidden room in the mausoleum. Maybe it’s overkill but so is sealing up the entire West Wing to hide a dead body (by the end of 1897, Judith could easily arrange for Tim Shaw to remove Trask’s body when no one else was around. Edward was often away on business, for instance).
And if the “secret” had been known to Liz or Roger, then they wouldn’t have eagerly accepted and handed over the Old House to some guy who shows up bearing an eerie resemblance to the Barnabas Collins pictured in the foyer.
I don’t have a problem with 1897’s development because I could imagine Joshua growing to trust his new “son” Daniel and perhaps even subtly trying to avoid making the same “mistakes” he did with his own son Barnabas.
Of course, 1897 doesn’t make a lot of sense in continuity with 1840, but my feeling has always been that the only “constant” is 1795. All other stories stem from it (with the exception of 1967, which feeds into it). So, the story we’re currently seeing is not really one where Joshua passed down the secret to Daniel, and Daniel clearly would have only told Quentin if he knew it — certainly not Gabriel.
Daniel would have preferred to tell Quentin but if he was off traveling the world, Daniel wmay have been forced to confide in Gabriel. Plus, I see Gabriel being a lot more willing to believe the secret – and pass it on. Quentin would have just written the whole thing off as further proof of Daniel’s insanity.
It would have been a neat touch if Liz and Roger had mentioned the vampire “tale” that had been passed down through the Collins generations. Of course, neither of them would have taken it seriously enough to be suspicious of long lost cousin Barnabas.
Its possible that in the “original” 1840 timeline (which is the starting point for the 1897 timeline) that Daniel ended up telling Gabriel because that Quentin (the 1840 one) was executed for witchcraft.
Reading your blog is worth the wait. Please keep it going Mr Horn.
On an episode-specific note, this was my first ever 1840 episode. When my parents’ cable was axed, I had to suffice on the tapes available at my local Suncoast Video store. For some reason this episode (and the one prior, I think) were packaged as “1840 Flashback.”
Needless to say, when I got to see the whole thing, I was not as impressed as I was with this duet of episodes.
I’m trying to determine if there might have been a way for the writers to play on the taut domestic drama of Angélique and Barnabas WITHOUT ignoring her character development from 1897/1970 (i.e., having future-Angélique here instead of one-day-at-a-time Angélique). Because…this episode and the relationship they have IS the saving characteristic of the story (not Daphne/Quentin, by a long shot) and the element, if anything, that could have kept the show going (i.e., more “traditional” soap stories) had they been interested in doing/able to do that.
At the moment I can’t think of a way to make them bitter enemies, forced into a marriage farce, without discarding her prior character development. So for the first time ever, this move makes sense to me. It just took a scene-by-scene dissection for me to realise it.
Thank you for another great chapter.
The “Judah” music cue wasn’t really bothering me before, but it is beginning to wear; the problem may be (apart that it’s not very good) that it’s far too short, and is being replayed far too many times in the scenes, which makes its brevity more and more obvious.
That headless body is already “a head” taller than Letitia! Judah is going to be a heck of a basketball player (if basketball has been invented yet). But I imagine that once The Head is reattached, Judah will shrink to normal size.
Speaking of “normal size”, Harriet’s ghost ChromaKeys in looking to be about four feet tall. Even as she advances toward Daniel, she’s still pretty dinky – and do we have any other info about just HOW Daniel murdered her? I’m guessing strangling, did he also toss her off Widows Hill? If so, shouldn’t she look more smushfaced, a la Josette?
I’ll put it down to Julia being distracted by Angelique’s arrival, but REALLY! She was just too easily fooled into going to the graveyard’s basement; the headless body isn’t moving, it just lies there…so okay, it’s finally dead. Good riddance. Why would Julia want to check it out? Too obviously a trap, our Julia is usually more levelheaded than that! (Danged if this doesn’t start to look like we’re going to rehash the 1995 plot, with Judah just enslaving all and sundry, and Barnabas one step behind the plot.)
And say whatever you want about the irritating ultra-close close-ups for anyone else, the XCU was just MADE for Lara Parker’s lustrous eyes. She’s the only one I have seen so far where that shot not only works, but enhances the scene.
There are 2 things I remember from 8th grade P.E. -how bad a fall off a trampoline can hurt and the fact that basketball was invented in 1891 by Dr. James Naismith. It’s timely to mention what a great Center Judah’s body would have made what with March Madness going on. I can totally see him loping down court in a Duke uniform – Judah’s head having made 1600 on the SAT.
I wonder if Quentin was an early basketball player in 1891- ???. He certainly had the right build.
Watching these episodes when ABC first broadcast them, I perceived Daniel as a doddering old man. From my 2018 perspective, I realize he’s younger than I am now.
I know – me too!
When I started watching in 1966, I was the same age as David Collins. Now I’m older than Elizabeth. There’s no one left for me to catch up with except Ezra Braithwaite and maybe the Eagle Hill Cemetary Caretaker.
But we will never catch up to Barnabas, Angelique, Laura, or Quentin!
I wouldn’t mind catching up to Angelique if I could look like her when I get there!
There’s a way to go before getting to Amanda/Olivia, too – or Judah Zachery.
And I think Julia may have been lying about her age; she lied about everything else!
Yes, Julia was a true soap opera staple: She did the wrong thing for the right reasons. Well, at least some of the time.
Irritating,isn’t it?
Hi DS and Everyday fans,
Ok first of all, tho I totally appreciate your efforts to make it make sense timeline wise, we are talking about an evil headinabox plotline here. I’m taking a cue from Z-Jay and keeping my eyes closed through all the mind bending time travelling nonsense. Barnabas, Angelique, and Julia are together again. Plus Big Lou and Nancy are playing full crazy. And Barnabas has a new shirt and the ex is wearing a very contemporary lime green,well, thing around her neck. Great blog and great comments. Go Danny go. We are with you to the end.
“In fact, I thought he [Daniel] was supposed to be confined to the tower room, but apparently today he’s just puttering around the mansion, getting into trouble.” Shortly after Quentin returned, he moved Daniel back down into his own room–he said so within one of the first episodes of Quentin’s reappearance at Collinwood.
It’s too bad they didn’t have it take a good deal longer for Barnabas to project himself back from 1970. If Julia had managed to partially domesticate the 1840 Barnabas and get him on board with her investigation, his confrontation with Angelique would have been much improved. He wouldn’t have known anything that Julia and we know, and he couldn’t be counted on to listen to Julia. That would have made him a total loose cannon, as absolutely unpredictable in his reaction to Angelique as he would be unpredictable in his reactions to everyone else.
As it is, there’s only one intelligent way for him to respond to Angelique’s appearance. “Since you’re here, you may as well help us.”
“What makes me think I will help you?”
Barnabas and Julia tell her that they have traveled back in time from 1970, and that in the interval between 1840 and 1970 Angelique had twice joined forces with them against common foes.
“Do you expect me to believe this ABSURD TALE?”
They tell her that the foes they fought in 1897 and 1969 were Count Petofi and the Leviathans.
Smiling dismissively, she replies, “You can make up all the names you like, they won’t make me believe our story. But very well, tell me what name you have invented for the common adversary we are supposed to fight now.”
They say “Judah Zachery,” and she’s in. Murder Club is in session.
Having Barnabas and Angelique instead revisit their old scenes, right down to an improved version of the “My name is Cassandra!” bit, just tries our patience and makes Barnabas look even dumber than usual.
Speaking of the monster mash: Leticia is following, beat for damn beat, the plot of Head That Wouldn’t Die. Last episode when Barnabas leaves her room, I said “the head’s in her closet” and YEP. I knew because that is exactly what happened in the movie.
My question is: what was going on with her and the head BEFORE Barnabas showed up at her door? She was just lying around reading, apparently in for the evening, but the second he leaves the head’s all OOOOOH YOU GOTTA FIND MY BODY RIGHT NOW, LETTIE, and she’s all trances and running through the woods and dusting the second layer of leaves and crap off the Headless NotHorseman, who apparently likes to play Orphan in the Woods when he’s got some down time and then recruiting Julia into this mess and it’s all terribly, terribly urgent. But not until then?
So the devil gave Judah a mask and the people of Bedford obligingly buried it with his body! Apparently they thought this was the proper way to dispose of a Magic Devil Mask.
I did like the conversation about why Judah’s name never came up in 1970, shining a light on all the inconsistencies between cause (1840) and effect (1970).
Then I started thinking about the one DS storyline that had nothing to do with the Collins family – the creation of Adam. And while nobody wants to see Addison Powell again, it would have been fun to have a 19th century ancestor of Eric Lang involved in the JZ storyline – learning secrets about how to stitch heads to bodies and bringing them back to life.
Angelique’s hairstyle has changed remarkably between the last episode and this, even though it’s technically the same evening. She must have gotten bored waiting for Barnabas to return and gone into the powder room and done a comb out.
I’m thinking “Bedford” was supposed to be a fictitious town and county in Maine. There is a Bedford in both New Hampshire and Massachusetts, but neither is on the coast. There’s New Bedford, MA, but’s that’s all the way in the southern part of the state.