by David Selby
I began to imagine ever more heartbreaking events which would harden Angélique. Her hopes would soar, only to be shattered against the rocks. Love would come to her and she would see it slip through her fingers. But a succession of rotten breaks would grow tedious if the bad luck was simply arbitrary and came out of nowhere. There had to be some unseen hand behind her misfortunes, and that is how the idea of the devil came to me. I decided that if he had been seeking control of her from the very beginning and she had never been able to escape him, then she would be struggling against powers greater than her own. Something would be driving her besides her jealousy and willful vanity, and that struggle, requiring resiliency and courage, would make us sympathize with her more.
Most startling of all, the writers—I can only imagine in an effort to make the show more scary—had included several scenes where Angélique seemed to be bewildered by magic she had not herself invented: the skull, for instance, with a wig like Josette’s hair, which Barnabas opened as a wedding present; the appearance of Jeremiah as a walking corpse; the wedding champagne turning to blood. These events which so tortured and terrified Angélique could now be explained by the existence of the devil lurking in the background.
Looking closely at the many heroines in novels, I realized they all were flawed, and their talents and their faults arose from the same source. For instance, Angélique was drawn to magic because she was intelligent and curious and because her instinct for survival urged her to find any means of escape. But as she developed her skills, she doomed herself, since, in pursuing magic, she tied herself inexorably to the devil. Practice of witchcraft became an addiction; she was never able to give it up. The more desperate she became, the more she clung to those depraved techniques which made her the devil’s handmaiden. I found this irony fascinating.
Caitlin suggested that Angélique and Barnabas meet by page fifty. (Apparently this is a structural rule in romance novels.) Obedient to her guidelines, I decided to have them see each other for the first time as children, and, in my imagination, even then they were drawn to one another. He gave her a moonstone which she kept her whole life. I had them meet again aboard ship when Angélique was disguised as a boy, and finally in the marketplace where he noticed her for the first time and was attracted to her. She, of course, remembered him, and still kept the moonstone in the charm at her neck. I worked very hard on these scenes, writing them over and over, paring them down. I wanted to leave the reader aching for more.
At last I was able to write about “those nights in Martinique” which Angélique so often implored Barnabas to remember. Angélique’s misplaced trust in Barnabas, her shattered dreams and her bitter disappointment, suggested the background scenes I had always imagined when I was acting on the show, forcing the witchy little serving maid to play her bad-tempered tricks. Caitlin also suggested the title, Angélique’s Descent, which I resisted at first until I found the story of Inanna, the first recorded goddess myth, and the fragment of poetry, “Inanna abandoned heaven, abandoned earth, to the nether world she descended.” At that point the Living Goddess in Katmandu, Erzulie, and Inanna all began to fall into place as rich sources for Angélique.
The writing was long and arduous. Caitlin was a steady hand and a constant encouragement. Jim Pierson attempted to keep my characters true to the originals on the television show. The pages began to pile up and I began to think I might actually find a way to meet this challenge. I finally began to find the process enjoyable.
Any student of literature will recognize the obvious symbolism I struggled to put in place. Since Angélique was a child of the sea, water was her emotional center—her passionate love of the ocean, the loss of her mother in the hurricane, her first sexual experience in the rain. Likewise, since the vampire was a creature of the night, the moon is a symbol for Barnabas. When, from all the jewels, he chooses the moonstone to give Angélique, it is a gift of himself. When the moonstream flows across the water, in my mind the two lovers embrace, and when the moon’s refection falls into the lake it’s ... well, you know ....
Another interesting symbol for me was the mirror. The image and the reflection represent, for instance, the two sides of Angélique’s nature— innocent and corrupt, as when she looked in the mirror and saw her wedding dress covered in blood. The mirror reflects what was seen clearly but then becomes vague or opaque, revealing what was hidden. The duality of lovers who come together as one, suggests the narcissism of seeing oneself, one’s own reflection, in the eyes of one’s beloved. In many ways the mirror became a reoccurring theme throughout the book, the reflected image always offering a deeper truth, even as shadows are mirrors of sorts, darker shapes of what is real. That the vampire has no mirror image, and that he casts no shadow, makes him even more mysterious. The vampire is the essential enigma, death disguised as life, and the living side has vanished. As the Bokor, Angélique’s voodoo master, pointed out to her in the chapter which is my personal favorite, “The power is in the mirror.” The essential truth is what we can only glimpse.
Any reader of that particular chapter who is reminded of Carlos Castaneda should look no further. Don Juan’s teaching that “the greatest power is in desiring nothing,” is a familiar one. It worked for me because the Bokor sees that Angélique will never become a great sorceress, that she will always be thwarted by her own selfish nature and that she will never achieve indifference. He says to her, “You will always be obsessed with something. You will seek love and it will turn to jealously, then revenge, because deep beneath all your rainbow colors is a deep pool of despair and because your way is the way of desire.” This was my way of explaining why so many of Angélique’s spells went awry.
I played with these elements, only because, despite what I said about actresses in the beginning, I was an English minor in college, and these were the things that interested me. Also, since Angélique was a good student as a child, and the priest, who recognized her longing for understanding, gave her a book of Shakespeare, I was unable to resist threading a few lines from Shakespeare through her thoughts.
And so I continued on the tedious day by day process of drawing out the story. I was naive and inexperienced, but I came to enjoy the task and to feel happy with some of the things I had written. I worked for over a year, and I could have worked much longer. In the end Harpers’ deadline forced me to stop. I was bound by my outline and the decision made at Harpers, to keep “the curse” as the ending of the book in order to tie it to the television show. For this reason, there was a lot of story to tell and I had to cover a huge amount of material in a short amount of space. At times I thought I would still be writing in my grave,
The book was published as I wrote it, and I believe that Caitlin was relieved she did not have to have that “ghost writer” brought in. Hopefully, I will have the opportunity to write another novel in the series, and the next tale will be both more leisurely and more original. I learned a lot, mostly through my mistakes. Of course, as with any other writer, there are things I would like to go back and change.
Dark Shadows has given me many firsts in my life: my first professional engagement as an actress, my first feature film, and now my first job as a professional writer. But then for all of us, this enduring television saga with its many intriguing characters is a continuing and replenishing source of fascination and dreams.
SHADOWS FACTS
The original 1965 agreement between ABC-TV and Dan Curtis Associates, later Dan Curtis Productions, reveals that the original name intended for Dark Shadows was The House on Storm Cliff. Later, Art Wallace’s bible for the show was titled Shadows on the Wall.
Dark Shadows was the first daytime drama to attract a substantial following of young viewers, a trend that continued with other soap operas such as The Young and the Restless, All My Children, and General Hospital.
Dark Shadows is one of only a few television series to spawn two theatrical motion pictures (House of Dark Shadows and Night of Dark Shadows), and the only daytime drama t
o do so.
Several of the male stars from Dark Shadows, particularly David Selby and Jonathan Frid, were recognized as major teen idols of the late 1960s and early 1970s. Along with David Henesy, Don Briscoe, Michael Stroka, Chris Pennock, and Roger Davis, they were heavily featured in publications such as 16 and Tiger Beat as well as numerous soap opera and TV/movie magazines.
Dark Shadows was the only new network soap opera to debut in 1966. It replaced the cancelled teen serial Never Too Young. It was also ABC-TV’s first color soap opera.
Dark Shadows was the first daytime drama to feature supernatural themes and the first to utilize special effects. The production budget, excluding actor and producer salaries, for the series was approximately $70,000 for a week’s worth of five shows.
Dark Shadows’ storyline covered several centuries. In addition to the 1966- 1971 present day time periods, sequences set in the years 1795/1796, 1897, 1840, 1949, and 1692 were featured. Portions of the series were also devoted to the science fiction concept of parallel time, set in the years 1970, 1841, and 1680.
Dark Shadows was the first daily network soap opera to be offered in domestic syndication.
Dark Shadows was the first series purchased by the Sci-Fi Channel cable service. The program debuted on the Sci-Fi Channel’s second day of broadcast, September 25, 1992.
My Shadomy Past
by Chris Pennock
MY TWO YEARS ON DARK SHADOWS WERE SIMPLY THE RICHEST, most stimulating, challenging, and terrifying of my life as an actor. At least, so far. Imagine going from an “under five” (speaking lines) spot on Guiding Light to suddenly ... “you’re Chris!”—a big, juicy role as a fiendish, dominating, seductive Leviathan on Dark Shadows! (“Remember, Chris, he’s got to be likeable.” “But he’s a monster.” “Yeah, but he’s got to be a likeable, sexy Monster”. “Okay, no problem. I can do that.” “Try to act like Roger Davis!”)
I did have talent for shameless, over-the-top, quasi-Shakespearean-chewing-the scenery acting. No problem there. When I finally got a handle on Jeb Hawkes’ outrageous villainy, “zap!” they tried to make him remorseful, sympathetic, loving and depressed about it all. Well, all those elements were simply too much for my limited scope as a 24-year-old actor. (But James Dean was 24, I’d think to myself.) I mean I barely knew my lines! By the time I was flung off Widows’ Hill, screaming to my death, I wanted to say, “But, I’ve got him! I’ve got the handle! I can do Jeb!”
Splat! I went onto the jagged rocks.
But then, lo and behold, Dan Curtis—who kept the faith—said to me, “Chris how about doing Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?” I was stunned! Me? Playing the greatest roles in history? I immediately went into a soaring manic state of actor ecstasy! The only problem was actually acting the role.
During rehearsals, I was attacked savagely for still being “too much like Jeb!” Panicking, I locked myself in my dressing room hoping they would forget about me and replace me with Christopher Walken. But the Stanislavski thunderbolt struck! I became Cyrus Longworth, babbling shyly in the mirror, his sweet and cerebral character stayed with me forever.
But then, the menacing John Yaeger appeared. I tried imitating all kinds of savage, villainous actors, to no avail. (Spencer Tracy, Jack Palance, Al Pacino) But a deep, booming voice saved me. A big, happy murderous gorilla! James Earl Jones, in a nameless and forgotten movie, was my inspiration for Yaeger.
Yaeger celebrated evil! It was his opiate! He was having too much fun! And he couldn’t understand why Cyrus didn’t loosen up and wreak havoc too! What else was there?
It all became chillingly real one day in the studio when I thrust the wrong knife-edged cane upon Elizabeth Eis’ neck. One twitch on my part would slice through her jugular vein! We kept on with the scene, sweat breaking out on our faces, acute achycardia thundering in our chests, eyes locked in silent communication. “Sorry Liz!” “You’re an ******* Chris!” followed by, “OK, moving on.” Then all hell broke loose! “Hey props! Who put the wrong cane here?”
“I could have killed her!” “He could have killed me!” “What idiot did this?” Just another day on the set of Dark Shadows.
My next character, Sebastian Shaw, hippie astrologer, was totally forgettable. I really do not remember a single day playing him. I must have been wishing I were someone else. In what seemed like a few days later, I was someone else! Gabriel Collins, the fabulous, evil, self-pitying, fake cripple in his wheel chair. The inspiration this time was Geraldine Page in Sweet Bird of Youth ... Princess Alexandra de Lago. A strange choice? I have never allowed gender bending to interfere with my creativity. After all, I was about to portray a siamese twin who loses his twin, forgets his sexual identity and becomes a man/woman in James Ivory’s film Savages (with Thayer David!)
Gabriel was such a treat. There was so much fun to be had playing in a wheel chair, a great dramatic device. The writers endowed Gabriel with a very witty, sarcastic tongue, so I could insult literally everyone at Collinwood with impunity. Gabriel even had some tender, vulnerable scenes with Louis Edmonds, who portrayed his father. What more could an actor ask for?
Unless the muse returns to strike Dan Curtis with an inspiration as daring as Dark Shadows, I am unlikely to have the joy of such characters to play again. It was the time of my life.
Shooting Shadows
by Stuart Goodman
IN 1966, I WAS ON STAFF AT THE ABC-TV NETWORK AS A CAMERAMAN. I had just finished an afternoon dramatic series directed by Lela Swift. She admired my talent and we worked very well together. Lela mentioned to me that in the summer ABC would be starting Dark Shadows, the first Gothic daytime drama. She wanted me to be one of the cameramen and I accepted the exciting offer.
That spring, I worked on various shows where I met other cameramen who said they were also being considered for the new soap opera. In May, Ross Skipper, John Woods and myself assembled at ABC to begin what is now a legend in daytime programming, Dark Shadows. We met the cast and the other tech people who would make up the team that would put this unusual show on the air. Being a movie buff I was quite impressed meeting Joan Bennett. I didn’t know any of the other actors, and at the time I don’t think anyone else did either. Most of them were newcomers; some had theater experience, but most of us were quite young and eager to get a break, including me. The mysterious premise of the show sounded wonderful.
We did the first episode in June of 1966. The sets were so large and the cameras (initially black and white) were so bulky that we kept banging into props, walls and furniture. Live television was not easy. Those of you who have some of the cassette releases of the episodes will probably hear the noises we made behind the scenes while the show was in performance.
During the first year the show was not received by as large an audience as Executive Producer Dan Curtis and ABC had hoped for. In early 1967, there was rumors that we were going to be canceled. Then came a day that I will never forget. We finished taping the show in the afternoon and Lela and Dan asked me if I would stay and work overtime. They had some new characters they wanted to audition on tape. My wife was pregnant and due any day, but Lela insisted it was something special and that she really wanted my personal opinion as well. I agreed to stay. We subsequently auditioned about six or seven actors who read text that sounded like it was from a horror movie. I didn’t understand it, but kept shooting. Afterward, I told Lela that one actor made such an impression on me. “Whatever you are looking for, I believe you’ll get it from this actor.” His name was Jonathan Frid. He was hired to play vampire Barnabas Collins and started work in early April, right after my daughter Julie was born.
The entire show started to take a different slant after Barnabas arrived on the scene. I couldn’t believe what was happening; characters were changed, the sets got spookier and suddenly I had cobwebs all over my camera.
In the late summer of 1967, the head of engineering at ABC came to visit our set and notified us we would be getting brand new color cameras! That sounded terrific�
�until they came. They were much smaller than the black and white machines, which was great, but they were all electronically powered zoom cameras. They scared the living daylights out of us. If you think you heard noise on the early shows! In August of 1967, we not only banged into things, we had a hard time finding focus. Once we got the hang of things, the new color cameras brought life to the show, and were much easier to use than the old ones.
As the show progressed, and the stories took on a darker and more mysterious edge, we started to experiment with visual effects. Remember, this long before Star Wars and computer effects captivated the world. I found that if I put Saran Wrap around my lens and then coated the edges with Vaseline petroleum jelly and made small zooms in and out I created a scary image of the character. Well, this combined with cobwebs scared the audience no end. It was a tremendous success. As I started to perfect my special effects skills, I found that if I put a contained bucket of fire in front of my lens it made Angélique look like she is jumping out of an actual fire.
