This is about as dark as the night scenes were in the episodes I watched of Dark Shadows. Note: this picture was taken in my backyard at dawn.
When I was a really little kid, about four, my best friend was the next door neighbor, Little Brian Hess. Completely unrelated to this story, he was Little Brian, not because his father was a Brian--his father was Jay, as I recall--but we were a pretty close neighborhood and an older boy named Brian--that would be Big Brian Coty, lived on our street. The Hess family had four kids, Brian, Jill, and the Twins ( younger, not a clue what their names were--they were always referred to as "the twins").
Little Brian's mom was a housewife. Remember housewives? They morphed into Home-makers and Stay-At-Home Moms, and some have referred to them as Domestic Goddesses (give me a break! Try to feel like a goddess with baby vomit down your front and back) and we'll probably eventually have to be called Domestic Engineers or some other lofty, p.c. title. You can call me anything you want if this job ever comes with a paycheck. Yes, I digress..
...Little Brian's mom used to love Dark Shadows and watched every afternoon before Jay came home from work. You remember Dark Shadows, don't you? The eery estate Collingswood, the governess Victoria Winter, Daphne, Julia, whoever the family matriarch was, and Barnabas Collins, the two-hundred (or so) year-old vampire. The music was properly creepy and disturbing. This was a very popular series, though short-lived by today's standards. And I was forbidden to watch it.
I played at the neighbor's house for most of the day since both my parents worked. No, I wasn't a latch key kid, my grandmother lived with us, but I was a typical kid of THAT time ( meaning I liked to play outside--no Nintendo, Blackberries, text messaging, hell, we didn't even have cable back then. The remote control was the couple's children). I also liked playing with the neighborhood kids, mostly with Little Brian because we were the youngest in the neighborhood. Actually, the Twins were the youngest, but they were so young that they barely counted as being human.
Anyway, I probably out-stayed my welcome on a daily basis, but they put up with me anyway. And Dark Shadows gave me nightmares. Consistently. Every Night. So, I'm assuming it was my parents, the people who had to put up with the screaming and tears and crawling into their bed nightly, who forbade the watching of Dark Shadows.
But Nancy Hess must have really liked that show, possibly the daughter Jill, too, because Dark Shadows was on their TV every weekday afternoon. So, I had to start ducking behind the couch when it came on so that I couldn't see Barnabas Collins.
Not good enough. Even the theme music was enough to give me bad dreams, so eventually, when I heard that eery music start, I knew it was time to head home. My mother must have told Nancy to send me home when the show came on, probably fed up with my middle-of-the-night gothic melodrama.
Needless to say, Dark Shadows has always lived in some hidden corner of my brain with the elevated status as being the scariest thing ever--the thing of nightmares, literally. But I was four years old when that show was on and have no clear memories of the characters or story lines. And I've been curious, very curious. My mom can't forbid me to watch anything anymore.
There is now a channel called Chiller. It's the scary channel. It's also often hokey, campy, especially when showing some of the older syndicated shows, and that is its appeal. It also shows The Night Stalker, another old favorite of mine. By the way, I love scary, but I don't do gory.
I couldn't believe it when I saw that there was going to be a Dark Shadows marathon. At long last I'd be able to see, through adult eyes, what all the fuss and hoopla was about. At last, I'd be able to see what had inspired nightmares in my childhood self.
It was a strange experience. Stranger still once I realized what I was watching. First, understand that since reading the Twilight books by Stephanie Meyers, I've been all about supernatural, paranormal novels. I love the Charlaine Harris books (particularly the Sookie Stackhouse books which HBO's Trueblood series is based on) and the Laurell K. Hamilton books. Basically one gets magic, wonder, adventure, action, and romance. Great escapist fare.
I expected the special effects in Dark Shadows to be crude and amateurish. I expected it to be somewhat over-acted. I was right. I was particularly taken aback by the Collingswood handyman who was a TERRIBLE actor, no matter what era we're talking about. Barnabas's attacks on women were laughable. But then I saw something strange that sent me straight to the computer and Google (actually Blackle, which IS Google, but the environmentally friendly version using a black screen and less juice. Be responsible, and from now on go to www.blackle.com for all your searches).
I remembered that Barbara Eden had not been allowed to show her belly button in I Dream of Jeannie. So how could it be, when Dark Shadows was from the same era in television that a female character
was allowed to wear a camisole on what was apparently a cold day? Yes, visibly erect nipples. I was shocked. To the computer I ran and discovered that I was watching a REMAKE from the early 1990s!
CHEATED! I felt so cheated. The acting was so bad and the whole production was so campy that I'd been sure I was watching the real thing! I mean, all the night scenes had obviously been filmed during the day--THAT'S HOW BAD IT WAS! You'd think with this production being filmed in the '90's that they could have at least made the night scenes look like it was actually night. With all the out-of-work, high-quality actors in the world, surely someone better could have been given the part of the handyman. CHEATED, absolutely CHEATED.
And then I found out that what I was watching was actually the third incarnation of the series. In disgust, a fit of pique, I grabbed the remote, went to my list, and hit delete.
Now Miranda is disgusted with me. I'd forgotten that we talked about the show one night when she called me from D.C. and had wanted me to save it for her. This conversation took place before the GREAT REVELATION. I do have some regrets. Honestly, I was enjoying the series, it took so little of my attention that I could wander in and out of the room and miss little, so I, perhaps, over-reacted to what I perceived was a betrayal by the Chiller network. But I had wanted the original.
So that is what is on my hypothetical list for birthday or Christmas: the ORIGINAL Dark Shadows series. My curiosity remains unsatisfied.
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