“Then we shall simply have to change the course of history, and find him.”
Let’s face it: 1840 has been letting us down on the visual spectacle. There used to be a monster in this storyline, split into two parts: the Head glowering in a glass case, and the Body roaming the woods like a murderous pantomime horse. There used to be vampires, feeding on the blood of the innocent. There used to be a guy in a wheelchair, which isn’t a monster but at least it’s something to look at. Now the only monster is a smooth-talking warlock, who rigs court cases, and casts spells that make governesses fall asleep.
These days, the show is dominated by people wearing old-fashioned clothes, gossiping with each other about who’s responsible for what. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have a zombie, or a skeleton, or even a severed hand flying around the room. Think back: isn’t everything better when there’s a mischievous, floating severed hand?
So it’s something of a relief that today we get a weird time door, shot at an oblique angle, giving us a glimpse of a 1970 light show where the outside used to be. It doesn’t last long, but I’ll take it. At least they still remember where they keep the chromakey.
This is the Staircase Through Time, a late-stage psychedelic head trip that can blow open the doors of perception and expand your awareness of the connection between all things. It is also, apparently, a college-professor delivery system. Sometimes a thing can be more than one thing, especially if psychedelics are involved.
So here’s Professor Stokes, ta-dah! He’s been delivered from the 70s, directly to your door. He was feeling left behind, because everyone he knows either died, went mad or moved to the nineteen century, and you can’t leave a diva like Stokes out of the party. He searched the ruins of Collinwood until he found the journal of Flora Collins, the literary equivalent of the radio on Gilligan’s Island, which tells you exactly what you want to know, exactly when you need to know it.
The journal said that Barnabas Collins mysteriously disappeared in 1840, and nobody ever found the body. He knew that meant that Barnabas and Julia must be in trouble, so Stokes took the first flight out of town. Apparently he went and sat in the spooky old playroom for 36 hours, until the ghosts got tired of him always hanging around, and grudgingly opened up the portal between this time and that. It’s not clear which ghost booked the tickets for him; I guess it was whoever was on duty.
Stokes doesn’t mention anything else that he read in Flora’s journal, which could have been helpful, if it said anything about the outcome of Quentin and Desmond’s trial, or Gerard’s takeover of Collinwood. Flora must have been journaling about those things, because it’s all she talks about, but apparently Stokes got as far as Barnabas disappearing and then there was a spoiler warning, so he put the book down and just trotted off to the departure gate.
I wonder if there are any other journals like that scattered around in the ruins of the great estate, like Fodor’s Travel Guides to other time periods. Collinwood’s economy is a mess right now, what with the roof all caved in. I hadn’t even thought of the timeline tourism industry. That’s why you need a guy like Stokes, for out-of-the-box thinking like that.
The Professor is met at the bottom of the stairs by Dr. Julia Hoffman, a fellow refugee from an uncertain future, which has probably already been overwritten by her butterfly-stomping temporal meddling. The doctor’s been here in the mid-nineteenth for months, awakening the dead left and right, and the monsters that she has unleashed upon the unsuspecting are putting a crack in the chronology.
Flora wrote in her journal that Barnabas has mysteriously disappeared, but the only reason that Barnabas mysteriously appeared in this timeline in the first place was because Julia unboxed him. Julia’s reckless antics are rewriting the diaries of the future, as she merrily rows her boat down an alternate timestream.
But Stokes is all business. He asks if Gerard Stiles is here, because he knows that Gerard’s restless spirit will be behind the catastrophe that will have recently destroyed Collinwood in the future.
Julia answers, “He is the master of Collinwood,” but she has more urgent things to discuss. “Eliot, there’s a witchcraft trial at Collinsport. Quentin Collins is on trial for witchcraft, and Desmond Collins has been put in jail, they’ve both been accused of being warlocks!”
All of that is information that Stokes could have picked up from Flora’s journal, but now we’ve got to go through it all over again. In fact, that’s pretty much the reason that Stokes is with us today, to be the recipient of a massive exposition-dump.
As we discussed in yesterday’s post, this is the week between Christmas and New Year’s, when everyone’s home from school and it’s possible for the show to pick up some lapsed viewers, and get them interested in the Collins family again. So from Monday through Wednesday, there’s going to be a lot of high-intensity recapping. Today, I’m afraid to say, is Tuesday.
But it’s not all recap today. This woman is the mythopoetic trickster Dr. Julia Hoffman, the greatest character in fiction. She doesn’t do boring.
Julia takes a moment to moan that they haven’t found a way to prove that Gerard is responsible for all the witchcraft, and then jumps straight into aliases and alibis.
“We’ve got to work out a complete history for you,” she says, settling in one spot and heaving a sigh.
It takes her literally three seconds, including the sigh. Seriously, go and watch this moment, it’s amazing. She says “work out a complete history for you,” one mississippi two mississippi three mississippi, “I’ll introduce you as a friend of mine from Pennsylvania. You’re a professor, at the college there. You’ve not met Barnabas, but you have corresponded with him on matters of philosophy, of interest to you both. Now, you’ve come in answer to an old invitation from him.”
And that’s all it takes. She’s probably forging the invitation in her head right now, and consulting train schedules. Julia can do almost anything well, and the thing she does best is come up with cover stories for time travellers and serial killers. It just bubbles out of her, effortlessly.
A neophyte might ask, why claim that Stokes has never met Barnabas, when it would be easier to say that he knows them both? That kind of consideration never occurs to Julia, in these moments. You just reach out your hand, and the lie finds you.
And then something else shows up, as it always does in the side-scrolling Playstation 2 platformer that is Julia Hoffman’s life. She’s saying to Stokes, “Now, we’ve got to get you some clothes,” — we’re doing wardrobe now, that’s what you do when you’ve just invented a new persona for someone — when there’s a rattle at the door.
It’s Gerard, standing right outside, and he’s heard her talking, and the door’s locked, and he wants to know what the hell is going on in there. The director inserts a dramatic music cue and a commercial break, because he thinks this puts Julia in a tight spot. It is to laugh.
When we return, Julia shoves Stokes behind a convenient stage curtain, and on her way to the door, she casually grabs a book from the table, opens the book to a random page, and then pretends that Gerard just caught her reading aloud to herself. This kind of thing comes at no extra charge when Julia’s around.
Gerard looks behind the curtains, but doesn’t notice that Stokes is behind one of them, whch is a bit hard to credit; when there’s a full-grown Stokes somewhere in the room, he usually makes himself evident. Still, Julia’s holding a book.
Gerard asks Julia why she’s here in Quentin’s basement murder lab, and she answers that “Charles Dawson found Judah Zachery’s journal in this room; I wanted to be sure there was no more evidence against Quentin.”
“So you would destroy it?” Gerard asks.
She looks him directly in the eye. “If necessary, yes,” she says, as if destroying evidence is the only possible course to take. “Wouldn’t you?” Julia believes that justice is something that happens to other people.
So Julia sends a shower of lies in Gerard’s direction, and then pulls Angelique aside for a private consultation in the drawing room. Angelique is a supernatural time travelling soap vixen, but from the other direction; she’s come from 1795 all the way to 1840, the slow way.
The short version is that this Angelique is an alternate model that didn’t do any of the stuff that we saw her do for the last three years of the show. She hasn’t married a second husband in 1968, she hasn’t appeared in the fireplace in 1897, and she hasn’t married a third husband in league with ancient space monsters in 1970. This is her first encounter with time travel shenanigans on this level.
So Julia has to quickly run through an explanation for why Professor Stokes will recognize Angelique when he sees her. “In 1968, you called yourself Cassandra,” Julia says, “and you were a student of his at a local college. He was the one who introduced you to Collinwood.” Angelique just stands there and takes it. What else can you do, when someone recaps a life that you haven’t lived yet?
“There’s only one thing that bothers me, though,” Julia says, looking thoughtful. “I don’t know how to explain about your being married to Barnabas. Because as far as he is concerned, Barnabas in 1970 is just an ordinary man. He doesn’t know that he was born in the 1700s.”
She means that Stokes doesn’t know when Barnabas was born; obviously, Barnabas would know that, although at this point it seems like anything is up for grabs. Julia is cross-indexing cover stories now, figuring out how to tell the impostor that she’s just invited to Collinwood why the impostor he knew in 1968 is here, without exposing the secrets of the impostor he knew in 1970. Nobody knows what’s going on in this storyline except for Julia, which is exactly the way that she likes it.
“The only thing I can think of,” she says, “is to say that you travelled through time too, that you have an obsession about Barnabas, and that you said if he didn’t agree to this story of your marriage, you’d tell everybody that he came from 1970.” And then the scene is over. That is the only thing that Julia Hoffman could think of.
Then Julia goes back downstairs and unloads a solid three minutes of recap, telling Stokes all about the complicated romantic lives of the storyline’s principals. She finally gets around to talking about who’s really to blame for the events of 1970, and Stokes reacts to the name “Judah Zachery”.
“Judah Zachery!” he breathes, with a close-up and one of those suspenseful bomp-bomp music cues. “The warlock?”
“Do you know of him?” Julia asks.
“How?” she continues. “Tell me! Tell me everything you know! You might be able to save Quentin’s life!” And then another close-up on Stokes, and a commercial break.
After the commercials, it turns out Stokes doesn’t know anything in particular. He says four sentences — Judah Zachery was beheaded for being a warlock in 1692, and his severed head disappeared — and that’s the extent of his expert occult knowledge. Julia’s the one who has to explain about Desmond finding the head, and everyone getting possessed, and the witchcraft trial. Then there’s a bunch more recap, and it turns out Stokes isn’t saving Quentin’s life, after all.
A couple minutes of chat later, Stokes pronounces, “Julia, you have just presented me with the most complicated crossword puzzle that I have ever heard of… and I have to solve it.” This sounds amazing, but I’ve got some hard news about Stokes’ participation in future storyline development.
Julia and Stokes go through all of this prep work — fourteen minutes worth, not counting commercials — and then Stokes disappears from the story, with no explanation. Two weeks from now, he shows up in one episode to expound on the theory of Parallel Time, and then another episode two weeks after that to accompany Barnabas and Julia back to the ’70s, and that is the beginning and the end of Stokes’ 1840 crossword-puzzle achievement. I hate to think that they brought him all the way here just to give Julia somebody to talk to for two-thirds of an episode, but that appears to be exactly what they’ve done.
Naturally, Julia’s exhausted by all that unnecessary work, and the next thing you know, she’s unconscious on the drawing room couch, surrounded by the purple and orange shapes that they’ve now decided are what dreams look like.
But this isn’t just a dream, it’s a vision: a message from the ghost of Roxanne, who beckons Julia through the front door, and outside to find the missing Barnabas.
“He’s dying, Julia! Barnabas is dying!” she calls, and then she says, “Follow me! Follow me! Follow me! Follow me! Follow me! Follow me! Follow me!” Julia is already following her, and is uncertain how to follow her any harder than she’s already doing it. Ghosts are like this, sometimes; they warn and they beckon, but they can’t actually come out and say what they’re trying to say. It’s probably a union thing.
So Julia follows her, follows her, follows her, to some random docks area. Julia says, “You must save him!” but Roxanne wails, “I can’t. You must follow! Follow me!”
“Oh, there is little time,” Roxanne continues. “Hurry, Julia! Hurry!”
And then we get a beautiful, classic Dark Shadows moment. Roxanne is emoting at the camera, and as she cries “You must hurry!” we can hear running footsteps. It’s Grayson Hall, hurrying Julia hurrying, all the way back to the drawing room set, where they’re planning to show her asleep on the couch in about six seconds.
Angelique happens by and wakes her up, and Julia tells her about this frustrating vision of a ghost who was desperate to help, but couldn’t manage to say that he’s in Trask’s basement, like a normal person. So Julia and Angelique run out of the house, forgetting about Stokes, to see if they can locate the street that Roxanne showed Julia in the dream.
Meanwhile, in the cellar, the unresting spirit of Roxanne whines at the wall, asking why Julia hasn’t come to rescue Barnabas yet. She is not good at taking responsibility.
But this is where we are, four weeks away from a climax, with a series of unfinished dreams and prophecies that never came true. Time is running out for this story to make sense, and we are trapped in an alcove with an unreliable ghost. Alas, Professor Stokes will not solve this complicated crossword puzzle. It might never be solved at all.
Tomorrow: The Mary Sue.
Dark Shadows bloopers to watch out for:
Looking up the staircase, Julia exclaims, “Someone’s coming! From where?” and then “Someone’s coming! But who?”
There’s one extra sound effects step on the stairs, which we hear at the same moment that we see Stokes at the top of the stairs.
Julia tells Stokes, “You couldn’t have come for a worse time for you, but you couldn’t be a better time for us!” No idea what she’s trying to say.
When Gerard opens the curtains to see if anyone’s hiding there, Julia says, “Well, why would anyone want to hide anyone from you, here in your own house?”
Julia scratches her nose when she explains to Gerard why she’s in the lab.
The music cue jumps due to a tape edit between Julia and Gerard leaving the lab, and their scene in the foyer. There’s a similar jump between Julia’s scene with Angelique in the drawing room, and Julia talking to Stokes in the lab.
Julia tells Angelique, “A man has come through — come down Quentin’s staircase.”
Stokes remarks on “seeing Gerard down there in Quentin’s laboratory,” while he’s standing in Quentin’s laboratory.
Julia tells Stokes that when she arrived in 1840, Gerard was living at Collinwood; he was actually living at Rose Cottage. Later in the conversation, Stokes observes that Gerard is staying on at Collinwood, but Julia corrects him, saying that Gerard is living at Rose Cottage — except that Gerard is actually living at Collinwood now, since he inherited Daniel’s estate. Julia has this backwards. I can draw a diagram if it would help.
Julia struggles a little with the massive amount of recap to Stokes, especially, “Yes, it was a complication, because — the very day — that G— Quentin and Tad were miraculously rescued at sea, and the day they arrived at Collinwood was the very day that Samantha and Gerard were married.” Later, Julia says that “The jailer’s wife mysteriously drown— died right outside Quentin’s cell!”
While Julia and Angelique are outside the chapel, the fog machine is going nuts to their immediate rear. Huge billows of mist blow onto the set, in the way that fog does not.
Behind the Scenes:
This is Donna Wandrey’s last episode; she played several different versions of Roxanne for 34 episodes, from June to December 1970. After this, she appeared on several more soaps through the 70s: As the World Turns, Ryan’s Hope and The Edge of Night. She had a couple more TV roles after that, as well as hundreds of commercials and industrial videos. She was a standby performer in the 1975-1976 Broadway run of Alan Ayckbourn’s The Norman Conquests, and did a lot of regional stage productions. In 1985, she wrote an article called “I Am a Cult” for The Easter Review, describing her experiences at a Dark Shadows convention.
Tomorrow: The Mary Sue.
— Danny Horn
25 thoughts on “Episode 1177: The Unfinished Dream”
that was beautiful Danny. i long ago pondered how you’d see this one. and everything seems to fit right where it ought, the analogies snug as that pantomimed horse. * sigh *
I had such a thrill of excitement at seeing Stokes come through that door – which of course died aborning over the next several episodes as I realized they weren’t going to use him in any promising way. This episode is such a tease – despite all the explosive info dumping, it really does feel like the storyline is finally self-correcting…and then it doesn’t. Julia’s lies are even affecting the plot progression.
And judging from “Because as far as he is concerned, Barnabas in 1970 is just an ordinary man. He doesn’t know that he was born in the 1700s,” you have as much trouble as I do with unclear antecedents. Come to think of it, DARK SHADOWS is nothing but unclear antecedents.
Seeing Stokes was so great, and so cruel–he’s here! He’s gonna save this storyline–and then poof! We have to infer all his actions here in 1840–he’s abandoned at Collinwood while Julia and Angelique hang around an alley and Roxanne is unhelpful, and then a few days later Barnabas wanders into the courtroom for another false spring.
We don’t get to see any of them do anything! I guess it was the writers’ frantic way of getting around explaining to Stokes what Barnabas was doing there in the first place, but man, it was mean.
Yep, that was one of the oddities. We thought that we were gonna see a good fight, when Stokes showed up, but wah, wah, waaaaah…
The future Gerard ghost didn’t have the decency to leave the plumbing intact. And Stokes, human that he is, still had to go to the bathroom. Maybe he even had a favorite seat at Collinwood, so the only place left for a desperate bladder was 1840. Dat’s wat I wouldda done.
Kinda funny that it was Gerard’s Ghost in the future, rather than Gerard himself. I mean, Angelique had been able to replenish her beautiful self, for centuries. Why didn’t the more powerful Zachary pull the Immortality card? Was he so in love with Miranda, that he transferred his Healing Factor?
I’m still curious as to why they booted Donna Wandrey so unceremoniously, and after such a big build up (all those Roxannes!). I thought (spoilers, sigh) that it had something to do with the shifting of gears as far as the Barnabas/Angelique relationship is concerned, but Roxanne is vamped and zapped into ghosty oblivion while Angelique is still pretty evil. Also, the vicious killing of his latest-true-love and near vampirizing of his best friend seem like they should be difficult, at best, to get over. Thoughts?
Eh, Barnabas never really follows through on anything, least of all revenge, when you think about it. That’s the core of his personality–if it’s between active vengeance and moping about his (admittedly horrible) lot in life, he always chooses the latter.
He gets angry; some of his best scenes are when he’s rating at Angie and trying to get her stubborn loyalty to her blind spot to unclench long enough to grasp why the endless torture of someone is unlikely to get them to love you–but everything’s about him. Whenever Julia or a random Roxanne or whichever Josette stand in he’s obsessed with is imperiled, his first reaction is how he can’t live without them, oh woe is him.
Not what’s happening to them or what they’ve given up for him or how often he’s used their loyalty to further his own ends. It’s all about him.
They’re having the same problems they were having a year ago, they’re starting to work on the script for Night of Dark Shadows around now and trying to write the show at the same time.
Another nail in the coffin is that it’s around now that Jonathan Frid says he won’t be in the second movie and he doesn’t want to play Barnabas on the show anymore either. I think that really threw everyone for a loop.
I, too, fell hard for the Stokes bait-and-switch here; just to see two of the smoothest old pros in the show, Hall and David, playing off each other again felt like a return to a safe harbor. Dark Shadows, you minx, you tease and abandon me again.
I love the lampshading of Stokes’s line, “Julia, you’ve been telling me the plot of a romantic novel.” The fact is, this whole 1840 timeline began on solid romantic-novel ground: with the Quentin-Samantha-Gerard triangle and Gerard’s duplicitous desire to take over Quentin’s life–the purest soap-opera boilerplate, and very workable. Barnabas/Trask/Roxane was a sort of pro-forma B-Plot that could have worked well enough; if it doesn’t work, toss in Angelique, she’s sure-fire fun. Coulda worked. But, no, they had to introduce the Head of Judah Zachary and confuse everything irretrievably. Why, why why? The 1897 Quentin that haunted Collinwood wasn’t supernatural in life–he was a ne’er-do-well that died miserably and became a powerful, vengeful ghost trying to reclaim a beloved child’s devotion. Why not let Gerard be that, a malevolent ghost, a king of pirate ghosts even, who sought to destroy the house he couldn’t seize for himself in life? Anything rather than canceling an already suave, double-dealing pirate social-climber with a baffling supernatural force who is never characterized for us and whose motives are at best a drag?
Dark Shadows was soap plus supernatural (so many people forget the soap part, but that’s where the characterization that strengthened the original gets fatally thinned out in every remake). This time, they were on solid soap ground, but bollixed up the supernatural part and finally ruined both parts of the formula. By this point it really is an irretrievable muddle, and they’re dropping actors and tried-and-true actor combinations like they just don’t care. And maybe by this point they didn’t.
Michael, I couldn’t agree more!
I know that I am probably the bitchiest about the whole DS 1840 debacle, but it’s so nice to hear other people being sympathetic to what I felt way back in 1970-71 when all of this was originally airing. Practically all of my teen friends had abandoned the show back then, and I didn’t have anyone I could talk with about this. Also, so many of the DS Facebook pages have either newbie friends who freak out if you dare to spoil anything that happens later in the series, or just plain die-hard fans who think Dan Curtis and Company could do no wrong.
At least with this blog, there are people who are not afraid to tell it like it is.
Exactly! Gerard, as Gerard, is a great character with interesting to watch motivations–the cuckoo in the nest, the pretender to the throne, the Iago waiting to snatch everything he thinks he deserves from someone who’s done nothing to him personally but had the bad luck to cross his path carrying a big tempting life and fortune.
Judah Zachary is boring. You wouldn’t think a guy who’s lived four hundred plus years, at least three hundred and fifty of them as a headless horseman cosplayer and a severed head in a box could possibly be boring, but he’s just a rehash of Angelique and we have one of those already.
Wonder why Gerard didn’t smell Stokes’ Hai Karate.
I’m always so glad to see Professor Stokes show up in 1840. It’s like the relief you feel when Max von Sydow finally shows up in the Exorcist. Oh boy, we’re saved!
Uh, sorry – no we’re not.
Skeletons and zombies are fine; I miss werewolves that (when transformed back into human form) need to change shirts on camera. That was fun.
This episode did seem to have lots to entice those vacationing college kids back to DS – – Professor Stokes time-tripping from out of that Psychedelic Shack was a good grabber, we got Julia almost up to record mendacity level (I love that she made up the backstory for Eliot, then threw in a new load of lies while telling Gerard the first lies! Hope she remembered to tell the revisions to Stokes!); Angelique got to put in her two cents while Julia made up even MORE lies (this time around so she could lie TO the Professor – – by the way, who does that overly intricate hairstyle for Valerie? Laszlo? Those braids must take hours!); and there finally seems like there will be some progress in this stalemate of a storyline – – Barnabas has disappeared (again) and back in the 1890s that brought the peak in the ratings – – There’s even some sop for fans of Roxanne, as a ghost and in a dream sequence no less (one that does NOT involve Daphne snogging Gerard!)
If I am reading the tarot cards correctly, none of it’s followed up (except getting Barnabas rescued) and the ex-viewers return to their campuses and their non-shadowy lives. And while I know there’s a few twists left in 1840, it’s not enough to keep the show going. We just have to wait fifty years or so until technology comes along with the internet and weblogging and streaming video to analyze where it all went astray.
I’m joining the chorus of disappointment for how they (didn’t) use Stokes in 1840. I was really looking forward to seeing what he did in 1840, because Stokes, like Julia, always makes things more interesting. Then they just disappeared him for a couple of weeks, which at best is a waste of a good character, and at worst a crime against humanity.
Barnabas and Julia have messed up the timeline so badly that logically the 1840 plot should have ended with them returning to 1970 and discovering a different Collins family living in Collinwood and nobody recognising them!
I have no recollection of Stokes joining our junior detectives in 1840, but if we won’t see him again for several weeks when this tired story finally expires, I see why.
For some reason, I thought Roxanne was on for at least until the end of this storyline, but TBH, I no longer remember what has been going on with her. She was important in 1995, wasn’t she? 🤔
Your writing is what my writing wants to be when it grows up.
When reading these episodes in the 1840 Concordance, I thought they sent Stokes into 1840 to be Quentin’s new lawyer.
I wondered if they brought him in as back-up in case contract negotiations with Frid went south and they needed someone to finish out the trial as Quentin’s attorney. Using Stokes for recap just feels like a waste of a good character but I can’t think of a faster, easier way to get the information across.
‘“The only thing I can think of,” she says, “is to say that you travelled through time too, that you have an obsession about Barnabas, and that you said if he didn’t agree to this story of your marriage, you’d tell everybody that he came from 1970.” And then the scene is over. That is the only thing that Julia Hoffman could think of.’
They’re hitting the audience over the head with the thee of Julia’s unrequited love for Barnabas in the 1840 segment. Which makes that line funny! Angelique is her rival, sort of, and so of course she tells her that “The only thing I can think of is to say that you are a big poopyhead and Barnabas will NEVER like you and it is really just PATHETIC you keep hanging around him when all he wants is for you to LEAVE HIM ALONE but you can’t take a hint so you just keeping hanging around and making a big FOOL of yourself while EVERYONE IS LAUGHING AT YOU!!!!”
Hee hee, it is always nice to see Angelique get hit by the Truth Stick. It never works, just bounces off her elaborate hair, but that’s why scenes with her and Julia are fun. She declaims her lines for a while, and then Julia gazes at her unblinkingly and says whatever, just don’t tell him X and you can pretend whatever you want.
Disappointment reigns supreme. I was stoked when Professor Stokes appeared at the top of Quentin’s stairway. Hurray! Salvation for this horrid plot-line. What a waste of a great actor and character. What were they thinking? Obviously, they weren’t. The writers, etc. were clueless as to how wasted the major characters were during this phase. I’m just beyond this point in re-watching DS and at 1840 PT, my groans are keeping neighbors awake at night.
“…Stokes is with us today, to be the recipient of a massive exposition-dump.” You ain’t kidding and if they thought they were going to recapture any lost fans with that crap then they had badly misjudged their audience. I can’t imagine a casual viewer sitting through more than 30 seconds of that blather.
This is definitely the episode to show to someone to demonstrate how insane Dark Shadows is. Julia’s exposition to Stokes reminds me of an episode of Police Squad.
I am so bummed to learn that Stokes’ appearance in the past leads to nothing, as well as Roxanne just fading away. I feel like if DS was some sort of animal, we’d be making the very hard decision whether to take it to the vet to be put down, or if it might rally and be fine.
I am convinced that Stokes figured out the whole Barnabas/vampire thing in 1968, but is politely waiting for Julia to tell him herself.
Very disappointed to hear he will not save this damnable 1840 story, as we all know he could, given the chance.
Oh, lordy lordy! That laborious 15 minutes of recap from Julia to Stokes was by far the most painful 15 minutes of Dark Shadows I’ve ever sat through.It made me wish I were within arm’s reach of the Collinwood liquor table.