A Dark Shadows Christmas: My dad wins at parenting

I mention my father quite a lot around these parts, and with good reason. He's, well, a fabulous pater. He got me into old movies. We pal around. He's aces.

But every good deed he's ever done me is trumped by his big Xmas present to me this year.

He's not only an attentive father who encourages my blogging (he's often my unofficial proofreader), but he's also a first-rate artist.

Remember this here post I penned a few months ago, casting a 1940s take on Dark Shadows?

Well, Dad remembered. And come Christmas morn' (or evening, to be more precise--poor sister had to work), here's what I found staring at me from beneath the tattered ruins of unwrapped paper:

My idealized '40s cast in their designated Dark Shadows roles. My father, who is not into Dark Shadows, as I had to twist his arm rather outrageously to get him to sit through one freakin' episode, looked up the original picture of the DS cast this is based on, sketched out all the proper poses and landscape with subtle adjustments, then faithfully and expertly drew the classic actors in their proper places.

All to make me gasp in slack-jawed fangirlish joy on Christmas Day.

What a pal. Thank you, Pa.

I guess I'm slowly but surely becoming a collector of customized art pieces, as evidenced by this and the wonderful likeness of Christopher Lee I received from Vulnavia Morbius a little over a year ago now (good lord, that long??). I'm perfectly fine with this development.

Here's my most recent acquisition framed and mounted on my wall:

Great Recasting Blogathon: Val Lewton's Dark Shadows

The following is me humble contribution to the Great Recasting Blogathon hosted at Rianna's Frankly, My Dear and Natalie's In The Mood. When I read the following on Rianna's page describing this cyber-shindig, long-time followers o'mine can imagine how I jumped to:

So the premise for this blogathon of ours is as follows: to recast a film made after 1965 in a year pre-1965 with actors in the lead roles and a director that were popular at the time. Supporting cast is optional. You have to explain why you chose the actors & director. We are allowing two recasting per film. If this sounds a little confusing, here is an example: the well known modern filmTitanic (1997) was made in 1997, but for this blogathon you could change the year, for example, to 1945, cast Ingrid Bergman in the Kate Winslet role, Cary Grant in the Leonardo diCaprio role, and switch the director from James Cameron to George Cukor. 

Well, gee, if you're going to twist my arm....

Naturally, being the obsessive nostalgic fangirl that I so very much am, I set my sights on opposite-updating Dark Shadows. Y'know, that '60s soap opera about vampires and an old creepy mansion in Maine? I might have mentioned it before, I don't remember.

*Note: I'm focusing on the original '60s series and the new Burton movie when discussing previous performances here. Sorry, Revival, but I already devoted a long, rambling post to you, so there ya go.

I didn't actively dislike Burton's recent treatment of Dark Shadows, but he did bungle an awful lot. There's a fantastically fun, weird project peeking out from the choppy editing and questionable script choices, but I just don't think a modern major film studio knows how to package such a sprawlingly bad-good, gothic melodrama like DS.

But I'll bet you anything Val Lewton around 1940 could.

I'd argue that even more than David O. Selznick there was never a producer in his time period who left a more personal stamp on his projects than Lewton, ableit working in a far more insular and genre-specific arena than someone like Selznick.  He specialized in the psychological aspect of horror, his unusual and surprisingly emotional 1942 Cat People bringing a strange dignity and mo' monies to RKO's B-Horror division. He was put in charge and turned out other B-classics that, though they might not have matched the unique energy and not-quite-rightness of Cat People, are still quietly enthralling in their own right: I Walked with a Zombie, Bedlam, Isle of the Dead, and the moving sequel to Cat People called Curse of the Cat People.

Even though his films depended mostly on fears centered around what you couldn't see, that doesn't mean he couldn't deliver on the visuals. Who can forget the sight of the comatose Christine Gordon and the dead staring eyes of the looming Darby Jones in I Walked with a Zombie, the lighting that made Julia Dean look like an undead gremlin as she tells little Ann Carter the story of "Sleepy Hollow" in Curse of the Cat People? Classic imagery.

The psychological and physical combined to create an atmosphere in Lewton movies most modern gothic directors can only drool at. This, and his career in low-budget flicks, would make him a perfect fill-in for Dark Shadows creator Dan Curtis in a wacky alternate dimension 1940s DS flick.

Not to mention that like Lewton's film oeuvre, Dark Shadows isn't a typical horror show. As in any soap opera, DS relied on the emotions reflected in the characters and the storylines, with the supernatural there to add an extra dollop of dark urgency. That contrast could be the key to the show's success and unique hold on non-soap fans, and possibly for Lewton as well. Only his reception was reversed--his horror films attracted not only thrill seekers but also sensitive, non-horror fans who enjoyed getting wrapped up in a good story.

So:

Producer

Val Lewton

Director

Gotta go with Jacques Tourneaur, director of Cat People and I Walked with a Zombie. The eerie, dreamlike quality of the first makes the scenes of Irena Dubrovna (one of the most sympathetic fictional characters ever?) succumbing to her feline heritage all the more disturbing, and yes, heartbreaking. Plus, he proved in Zombie that he knows how to film compelling stories in gothic mansions featuring stuffy family members who happen to be festering with SECRETS.

Robert Wise would be a completely acceptable alternate.

As for my cast, I've decided on a mish-mash of Lewton regulars and general 1940s actors who fit the bill.

Such as:

Boris Karloff as Barnabas Collins

Karloff was a loyal veteran of Val Lewton's, starring in 1945's Isle of the Dead, The Body Snatcher, and 1946's Bedlam. If we're to set this movie in, say, 1940 (which was two years before Lewton really hit it big, but work with me here), that would make Karloff...oh...about 53 years old. That made me a little hesitant to cast him as Barnabas, but then I thought, screw it, to hell with this ageist crap. After all, Depp is almost 50, and even though Jonathan Frid was only 42 when he first played the role, he...well...had the sort of craggy features that made him look like he could be older. 

What both Karloff and Frid have that I think Depp lacks is a highly unconventional sex appeal--a haunted, hollowed, imposing gravity. I thought Depp acted Barnabas well enough in the half-parodic setting of the new movie. But his look was absolutely wrong; you want someone who's starkly different not because of makeup, but because of an eerie presence that's anachronistic with his setting. Karloff has that presence. Plus, his romantic yet cruel Imhotep in The Mummy not only showcased his pathos, but also showcased his ability to play within the "lost love comes back reincarnated" trope.

Frances Dee as Victoria Winters/Josette DuPres

Victoria Winters, the governess protagonist of Dark Shadows, was inspired by Jane Eyre. Betsy Connell, the nurse protagonist in I Walked with a Zombie played by Frances Dee, was inspired by Jane Eyre. Coincidence?! Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it's confusing I even brought it up.

Dee too has a rare gravity, a gravity that makes her often soft-spoken characters seem stronger and more tolerable than the usual damsel type. And as an added bonus, Becky Sharp and Little Women are proof she looks achingly lovely in period gowns. That on top of her subtle lyricism would make her a very sympathetic Josette in flashback, Barnabas's Lost Lenore. Critics and audiences often view Alexandra Moltke's turn in the original and Bella Heathcote's in the new movie as wooden, unexciting. For all Dee shares these gals' muted line deliveries and even expressions, there's a warmth and quiet vitality to her work that would help make Vicki more animated, more believable (I say this as a Victoria fan who acknowledges her dippy ingenue issues).

Simone Simon as Angelique Bouchard

For anyone who's a fan of the Cat People movies, this actress enchants you. Her Irena's the most sympathetic character, unusually comely and appealing for someone playing the alleged monster of the title. Yet still...some weird stuff is going on behind that kittenish doll's face that's eerily off-kilter, a note that's just a mite tone-deaf in that sing-song voice. "There is something subtly alarming about [her] oddly mannered good-girl behavior," Roger Ebert says in his review of Cat People.

Angelique has to master similar "Good-girl" behavior in order to thrive in Collinsport without anyone discovering her secret powers. Yet she should indeed remain "oddly mannered;" this will remind us of the cray cray evil boiling away underneath the pretty surface. However, like I said, Simon also commands a great deal of sympathy as Irena, a sympathy vital to any portrayal of Angelique that's as fully realized as Lara Parker's original performance. As scintillating as Eva Green is in the new movie, she's almost too flamboyantly nuts for us to believe a true aching heart exists there within her broken frame. Simon's ethereal spookiness combined with the human weight she brings to her characters would make Angelique the complex villain you can't just dismiss as a woman scorned, just like the witch Parker originated.

Plus, like Green, Simon's French. So there's that.

(Aren't you impressed I didn't cast Vivien this time? I was tempted.)

Dwight Frye as Willie Loomis

...Yeah, maybe not my most original choice, but it would work so well. Let's return Willie to the John Karlen days when he was one of Dark Shadows' most complex characters, a sleazebag graverobber who ends up with a tortured conscience to end all tortured consciences as he becomes Barnabas's unwilling slave. The sinister nastiness that easily slides into hysterical panic, the sniveling pathos, all of that's embodied in Frye's multiple takes on the Renfield character type and in Willie.

Judith Anderson as Dr. Julia Hoffman

I know it's a stretch imagining her play a mysterious, shifty, intelligent, cultured, sinister, and obsessive mad scientist.

Ha, I'm hilarious.

Even with or maybe because of her dark, scheming edge, she tends to class up any movie she's in. And after the fiasco that was Julia's character in the new movie, let's give Julia back her classiness, shall we? And who among us hasn't longed to see Anderson play a mad scientist? Aaaaaand she plays frustrated unrequired love really well (see Rebecca and Laura).

She's perfect for Julia. She'd do Grayson Hall proud.

Tom Conway as Roger Collins

I'm being a good girl. I haven't cast Vivien Leigh, and I haven't cast George Sanders. But I have cast his brother.

Roger Collins is basically George Sanders a trifle more de-sexed. He's snooty, uppercrust, and looks down on everyone and his or her madre. Conway is a competent actor and he has all those qualities in abundance; on top of that, his voice and George's are practically identical, so yay more sex appeal!

He's also of course another Lewton favorite, starring as the lusty, unethical shrink in Cat People and as the Edward Rochester substitute in Zombie. 

Joan Bennett as Carolyn Stoddard

Now here's the kicker! So Joan Bennett played Elizabeth, the family matriarch, in the 1960s, right? Well, POW, in 1940 I'd have a blonde Joan Bennett as Liz's daughter, Carolyn! Mind-blowing, I tells ya!

She'd be about 30 in 1940, a drastic departure from Chloe Grace (still sounds wrong) Moretz's sullen 15-year-old in the new movie. I also **SPOILER** wouldn't make her a werewolf at the eleventh hour. That be bullshit.

Bennett's Carolyn would also probably diverge from Nancy Barrett's '60s Go-Go dancin' version. Bennett always drips with sophistication and high style; thus, instead of a perky spoiled princess with a hidden heart of gold, she'd be more the aloof, snobbish, high society queen with a hidden heart of gold. Can't you see her languishing uselessly around Collinwood, wearing pearls and slinky evening gowns, a haughty pout on her lips? I know I can.

Yet this opens up a problem I hadn't anticipated: I have no idea who to cast as Elizabeth.

? as Elizabeth Collins Stoddard

As played by Joan Bennett and Michelle Pfeiffer, Elizabeth is beautiful and dignified, coldly patrician. I've done my research, and there were very few actresses of the proper age still working in Hollywood at that time who would fit those qualities, sad to say. Hollywood moulded any woman still having the audacity to work past her 30s and 40s into either quirky old maid/spinster aunt character actors or crusty grand dames (Liz is a grand dame, but she's a sexy grand dame). Maybe Belle Mitchell? Maybe Clara Kimball Young (no)?

My dad suggested that since, hey, Elizabeth was basically a comeback role for Bennett, how about bring back a silent film maven who hadn't worked in a good long while? That would make sense.

So how about Theda Bara? Florence Turner (who was still working by that point, but mostly in bit parts)? Or, GASP! Evelyn Nesbit? My, once you examine the problem this way, the possibilities are boundless....

Darryl Hickman as David Collins

Even though I'm still smarting from some apparently immature and catty comments he made about Gene Tierney on the commentary track for Leave Her to Heaven, I guess if you're going to have a spooked, energetic kid in a 1940s movie, might as well go with him. Whatevs.

BONUS CHARACTERS!

Neither of these characters were in the Burton movie (well, actually...it's complicated!, eerie music, etc), but hey, anything's allowed in a magical Val Lewton alternate reality gothic wonderland:

Theresa Harris as Maggie Evans

(Boy I hate using this phrase, but) For his time, Lewton employed African-Americans in his movies more intelligently than many of his peers. Oh, they were still portrayed as servile, still unerringly gracious to their white bosses, still exotically mystical at times, still occasionally spouting sassy domestic sayings (quoth Ms. Harris in Cat People: "Don't nobody like apple fritters?").

Yet Lewton lets them converse and interact with others with common sense and dignity. No imposed dialect, no cloyingly childlike display of buffoonery. In fact, I Walked with a Zombie was surprisingly sensitive for the time; despite associating black people with mysticism, Lewton manages to purposely portray white pampered ignorance in a few scenes and how the black inhabitants of the island grin and bear such ignorance.

Above the fray is Theresa Harris, smart, beautiful, and magnetic. Lewton and Tourneaur obviously like her, and so do we. Again I cringe a little at the thought of her as Maggie Evans, the waitress. But then again, for someone as acute a performer as Harris, I imagine she'd be able to sneak in some of the race-consciousness from Zombie and give her Maggie more autonomy than worrying about the apple fritters (or chicken something, I can't remember what it was). Maybe she could play super sleuth, figure out what's up with Barnabas, and get into cahoots with Sheriff Patterson or Dave Woodward or whoever else would be there tracking Barn down.

Ann Carter as Sarah Collins

....Ohhhhhh wait she'd only be about four. Meh, oh well. I mean 1940 in a loose sort of way, more an approximate date than anything set in stone. Anyways, after watching Curse of the Cat People, Carter's my new favorite child actress. Yeah, I choked up a lot during that one, what of it? She's a very lonely Alice in Wonderland girl, and touchingly beautiful. She'd do wonderfully as the ghost of Barnabas's beloved little sister, the last remnant of his conscience.

Plus it's Boris Karloff with a child. There's nothing more adorable.

So long as they stay away from ponds.

*****

After casting this, I can't help but imagine how this would do as, say, a serial of twenty-five minute shorts set before A-movies. Y'know, kinda like very early General Hospital clips, or whatever hospital show it was? Dark Shadows is such a sprawling story, such an eclectic mix of characters, that most movie adaptations haven't quite succeeded in grasping what made it so compulsively watchable and easy to obsess over for all its grandiose awfulness. Perhaps these could be projects Lewton, Tourneur, et al could turn their fevered brains to when suffering creative blocks during production of their other movies.

Either way, I'd love to see Barnabas as a tortured yet brutal aristocrat who definitely is a vampire--but his attacks are shrouded in shadow, and like in Cat People, maybe the light could settle on his eyes, not his fangs.

Tim Burton's Dark Shadows: Did my low expectations save the day? Kind of.

"He's coming."

**BIG OL' SPOILERS HEREIN**

A few scenes came near to ruining the movie for me. But overall, Burton's consistent gothic mood that prevailed even during some of the goofier scenes, plus a few choice character changes that incorporated surprising elements from the original show, left me more satisfied than I anticipated.

I've been following this project for a while now, what with how I'm an obsessive Dark Shadows fan and all. So I was heartbroken when I saw the idiotic trailer. Then, of course, the collectively crappy reviews came out. My expectations were, well, low. I remembered seeing Sweeney Todd when my expectations were pretty high thanks to fair reviews and my own fangirlish excitement, and I was let down by the lack of humor and cuts to the source material. I think the opposite happened here.

Again, this film is far from flawless. Visually the movie's stunning, but has there ever been a Burton film that wasn't? Aside from his penchant for spirals and saturated colors that can ring a little monotonous, Burton's distinct style is what's he's known for--though often at the expense of character development.

That point can definitely be argued here, and I'd blame that on the rushed story line. Which, frankly, is to be expected in a movie that incorporates plot points from a soap opera that ran over 1,200 episodes.

And about those characterizations. With the exception of Barnabas and Angelique, they were all pretty paltry:

Jackie Earle Haley as Willie Loomis: Before watching the movie, I made the conscious decision to try--try--keeping the original show out of my mind as much as possible. I attempted putting myself in the mindset of someone who's never seen the show. I think as a newbie I'd have been mildly amused by Haley's Willie and then promptly forgotten his character existed. As a fan, I quietly mourned the downgrade of my DS crush from a tortured manservant with a conman past into a shiftless drunk who's barely memorable. Still, Haley's delivery is wry and understated, and though not very memorable, he's passable.

Jonny Lee Miller as Roger Collins: Suffers greatly from limited screen time. Hard to get a feel for Miller's acting, though I didn't really mind how he turned out to be an even bigger douchebag sleaze...bag than the original's Roger. Certainly not as lovable as Louis Edmond's snooty patriarch, but again, Miller was passable.

Gulliver McGrath as David Collins: Very effective little kid who didn't make me want to vomit; again, possibly because we don't see him that much. But when we do he's appropriately soulful and disturbed. I like the inclusion of his mother Laura's ghost, though her actual appearance at the climax feels shoehorned in and ultimately unexplained (Hoffman hints at her cyclical immortality, but no mention of being a phoenix). I wish we could have had some good scenes between he and Vicki; after all, she's the governess who gets through to him in both the original and the revival. Slowly gaining his trust is important to both their characters.

Chloe Grace Moretz as Carolyn Stoddard (has she always used that Grace in her name? I thought she used to be just plain Chloe Moretz): Her Carolyn rubbed me the wrong way. She's given some painfully awkward sullen teen lines (her little outburst during the first breakfast scene is especially clumsy). Moretz got a lot of publicity for this movie, so I was surprised she had no big scenes outside of the werewolf debacle. And that didn't amount to much of a scene. Damn, that stupid werewolf thing. Poor special effect, and too randomly thrown in to be really funny--or dramatic--I don't know what the hell they were going for. "I'm a werewolf. Get over it. Woof," belongs in a Scary Movie sequel, and doesn't gel with the climax's tone. By that point, the action seemed to veer uncomfortably toward spoof, which jarred with the tense mood.

Helena Bonham Carter as Dr. Julia Hoffman: Wins the prize as starring in the scene that almost made me throw up my hands and proclaim that I hate Tim Burton and Seth Grahame-Smith forever. This movie has problems with career women, apparently. The intelligent and crafty Julia Hoffman, who was admittedly downgraded into playing the lovesick sidekick eventually in the original, is really given an even more overt kick in the ovaries here. She may be a brilliant doctor, but really she just wants to be young and sexy again! I will not ever forgive or forget that blow-job scene. And the dispassionate way Barnabas and Willie dispose of her--Willie says, "I never liked the bitch anyways"-- combined with her clownish desperation make for an insulting and degrading turn. Bonham Carter was very good, but she had no substantial character to play outside of drunk wacko letch.

Michelle Pfeiffer as Elizabeth Collins Stoddard: Outside of Barnabas, Angelique, and arguably Vicki, Elizabeth is given the most meat to her character. And of course, Michelle Pfeiffer could just stand there blinking (which she does a great deal of the time here) and still be the classiest part of any production. There's a teasing moment during Alice Cooper's "meh" cameo where she and Carolyn appear to be connecting over things unsaid about Carolyn's father, but unfortunately, nothing comes of it.

Eva Green as Angelique: I'ma gonna go subjective here. Angelique will always be Lara Parker to me just as much as Frid is Barnabas, unfair though that might be to subsequent interpretations. It doesn't help that although Green does well, she's another insulting example of this movie's issue with driven women. Julia Hoffman only conducts scientific experiments so she can be pretty again, and Angelique's only a successful businesswoman because she's a spiteful, horny, pining witch who slinks around most of the time in sexy negligees. Because of the rushed plot, we're never given sufficient reason to understand why she, Julia, and Vicki fall all over themselves for Barnabas. Her deadly infatuation is just there, and while the literal handing of her heart to Barnabas at the end is morbidly touching, and I like that they touch on her possessiveness as being corrosive and pathetic instead of actual love, there just isn't enough sympathy for her character to rise above an offensive though well acted caricature of the ultimate woman scorned.

Bella Heathcote as Victoria Winters: I'm gonna say it loud and I'm gonna say it proud: I love, love, love the Maggie Evans twist to her character, but absolutely hate that they neglect her story for so long and keep her flashbacks so brief. But that twist alone made me upgrade my opinion of the movie from "begrudgingly acknowledging it's not terrible" to "actually sort of liking it". The hypnotically saucer-eyed Heathcote looks eerily like a ghostly Jean Shrimpton, and those Mod, early '70s good looks lend her an ethereal grace that holds your attention when the camera settles on her doll-like face. You could argue her inflections border on the wooden side, but I think they possess the proper, grave weight  Alexander Moltke's Victoria had. And yeah, I want her wardrobe like none other.

I actually gasped when she said her first line: "Hello. My name is Maggie Evans." That. Is brilliant. They took the confusion that resulted from the original's surplus of ingenues and used that to the movie's advantage, creating an effectively startling backstory. If only Vicki/Maggie's backstory were given more time to breathe onscreen besides brief snippets at disjointed moments. There's something so strangely touching about Josette's ghost following this child that I couldn't help adoring the inclusion and wanting more of it, see more of their mystical bond. Admittedly, their connection does open up some character problems: my sister took issue with how Burton and Grahame-Smith basically use Josette's ghost as an excuse to wedge in Vicki's romance with Barnabas. It's easy to make them fall in love when she's "destined" to be with him as a conduit to house Josette's spirit. No need to dwell on any scenes that, y'know, establish Vicki's actual relationship with Barnabas.

I wish ardently that in the prologue Josette had more than one line, that Burton had somehow given her a real scene with Barnabas. My ideal scenario: adding in the traditional moment when Barnabas presents her with the music box. To fit that in, they could always take out the blow-job or ceiling sex with Angelique or multiple scenes where Barnabas finds kookier and kookier places to sleep around the house before his coffin arrives. We never really get a sense of Barnabas's love for Josette, so there's no deep connection there for us to recall. He says he loves her. And that's that. While it's cool and all that Burton took the unexpected route of focusing the story on the business side of the Collins family with Barnabas and Angelique's rival canneries, this means that the integral love triangle is shoved in without much fanfare.

Burton does Victoria and Heathcote a disservice forgetting about the character in the wake of Barnabas's revival and his subsequent sexy scenes with Angelique. That said, Ghost Josette might just be my favorite character.

Johnny Depp as Barnabas Collins: I have to say, I wasn't expecting much from him this time around. From the trailer and clips circulating online, his makeup looked awful and obvious, stagey and unrealistic, the spiked bangs were greasy and distracting, and he seemed to be mugging with exaggerated gravitas. But while he didn't exactly blow me away as Barnabas, and the makeup was still terrible, he was good. He has a commanding presence, and a great romantic sensibility.

Still, we can't quite tell why so many gals suddenly want to throw themselves at him. His sex scenes with Angelique were particularly cringe-worthy, because while Green's appropriately bawdy (her words), Depp's Barnabas is too classy to buy as that overt a cassanova. A passionate kiss I would have forgiven in that office scene, but anything else was just uncomfortable instead of funny, at least to my prudish way of thinking.

And as good as Depp was, we should have seen less from his point-of-view. Burton's so attached to the notion that all his films starring Depp should be filmed from the actor's perspective, and that Depp should always be the sad-eyed misfit, that any mystery surrounding Barnabas is nonexistent here. Jonathan Frid always said that the juiciest part about playing Barnabas, and the most cunning side to his character, was "the lie". For all his bloodthirsty tendencies, Barnabas was always the suave, unfailing gentleman when in civilized society, obsessed with keeping his Vampirism secret from the remaining Collins family members. The fish-out-of-water elements in this film fall flat when Barnabas constantly ignores Elizabeth's efforts to conceal his identity; this Barnabas thinks nothing of mentioning the centuries he's been alive and that real silver would cause him to burst into flame. A little fish-out-of-water humor is fine, but when it messes with fundamental elements of Barnabas's character, it just plain doesn't jive.

So there we are where characterization is concerned. Now for that controversial mish-mashed tone. Most complaints stem from what many deem the awkward combination of gothic seriousness and juvenile humor throughout the film. I had surprisingly few complaints there. Well, not really: I've harped on already about the blow-job, the supernatural sex, and the werewolf reveal, but I also dislike the quirky montage that ineptly covers the cannery and house renovations and too-obvious visual vampire gags, and random scenes like the hippie slaughter. These was all too broad, when some of the quieter jokes (like Barnabas sneering at a Troll doll) worked far better when simply passed over quickly without comment. If they just took out the aforementioned loud jokes, however, I thought the quieter humor worked well. While not quite succeeding in comfortably lightening the tension of the moment, Depp inadvertently playing the Casio organ while bemoaning his fate was, c'mon, pretty dang funny. Subtler touches of humor worked better than broader strokes. They helped sweeten the melodrama without overwhelming the dark mood too much.

As my sister once again noted, that the movie was fast-paced was a relief compared to some epically long movies out recently, but scenes like the prologue suffered for it. I could've done without Barnabas's narration there, as it detached us from the action, and again, we only get a brief shot of Josette before the lovely thing hurls herself off Widow's Hill.

But oh, that glorious scene where Victoria rides the train on the way to Collinsport set to Moody Blues's "Nights in White Satin!" That was worth the price of admission, and the feel of the movie was right for Dark Shadows. Danny Elman also composes one of his best, most mature scores to date. Absent is his tendency to go all quirky "bomp-a-bomp-a-tingly-tingly" with his tunes, a tendency that plagues some of his other Burton scores.

If only Burton and Seth Grahame-Smith hadn't forgotten the potential in Victoria's character and her ties to Josette, if only they hadn't neglected the other characters, if they hadn't gone so broad and crude with some of the comedy, if only Christoper Lee were in it more! If they had just not let the plot get away from them and if they had put in a ton more thought into character and had better integrated the broad jokes, Burton and Depp would have had a triumph on their hands. The atmosphere is tremendous and succeeds in leaving me with a dreamy, happily nostalgic feeling, but it could have been even more. As is, we have a movie with a solid, consistently gothic mood and a sweeping romance, but a sweeping romance that's too poorly developed for this movie to be considered a high art example of the gothic camp genre. Burton's Dark Shadows is a fascinating, beautiful oddity where you can always just see the marks they missed. I liked it, but it's a high-flown mess.

Dark Shadows Obsessors Time! Reboot Sketches By George Caltsoudas

Browsing deviantart, as one does, I happily stumbled across artist George Caltsoudas’ beautiful, stylized re-imaginings for a dream project “first chapter comic adaptation of 1960s TV Series, Dark Shadows.”

I was hooked even before reading that.

I thought other DS fans, and fans of richly detailed ‘60s/Old School Gothic décor in general, should find his designs and sketches of much interest. His look has a Tim Burton-y feel, but with an haute couture, retro sensibility all his own, that makes his work more original and evocative of the past than what I’ve seen from Burton lately (y’know, spirals and stripes. I still consider myself a Burton fan, but c'mon!).

And even though Caltsoudas' style is distinctly his own, he obviously has the Dark Shadows feel down pat; he sprinkles throughout some of the flubs from the series, and heightens the “Greek tragedy” aura of the Collins’ mythos. His Barnabas is a smooth combination of Frid and Depp, without detracting from either actor. Yet he doesn’t pull away from bringing in dazzling new additions of his own, such as my beloved, awful Buzz getting an extended role in this reboot, and Angelique/Cassandra coming into events in an even more ghoulish, disturbing way (because of Buzz). (Hee, Buzz!). Really makes me wish this was going into the movie!

Oh, and further bonus for a wee little vintage freak like me? He lists one Elena Nathanail as inspiration for his Victoria’s look. I’d never heard of Miss Nathanail before, but I looked her up, and I like her style! I’d also never heard of 1969 sister act Wendy and Bonnie either, which he says is the soundtrack he hears when he thinks of Victoria. And after I listened to their album Genesis on YouTube? Uh, yeah. Completely. I'm in love. Frankly, I’ve decided Danny Elfman should incorporate bits and pieces of their songs whenever Victoria shows up in the new movie.

Anywho, glorious work, Mr. Caltsoudas! Do let us know whenever you add anything more to your portfolio! Fellow Dark Shadows creeps, be sure to check out his gallery!

Actors with Great Voices

Sometimes there are actors out there whose primary charms--their gravitas, charisma, carriage, what have you--are personified by their voices. That doesn't mean their voices have to be their only talent, only that it's an important ingredient in an already wonderful actor-y stew. Here are some of my faves in the vocal dee-partment:

Christopher Lee
I think I've gone over this one, haven't I? Let's just allow his King Haggard to speak for himself.





Ronald Colman
He possesses the quintessential uppercrust British accent, all sexy and suave. Here's a link to his appearances on the Jack Benny radio program, where he's the perfect Wilson to Benny's Dennis.
http://theoldtimeradioshow.com/jack-benny-and-ronald-coleman/


George Sanders
Combines Colman's aristocratic suavity with Lee's commanding basso profund...ity? Anyways, hot. Could anyone else voice a tiger so realistically (and strangely sexily? Don't judge me I'm not a furry!!)?





Maximilian Schell
The Grim Reaper in vocal form. Absolutely chilling, yet engrossing.

I've never seen this, but it looks super depressing. You're welcome!




Leonard Nimoy
No, I'm not going to post "Bilbo Baggins!" Just this weirdness:




George Takei's voice ain't bad, either, and can be really funny, too.


He's also very fun to imitate. Go ahead, give it a shot!


Dan Castellaneta (I've come to terms with the fact I'll never be able to spell his surname without looking it up first)

Of course everyone in The Simpons cast has an amazing set o'pipes, but Castellaneta (yup, had to look) gets the most props because his natural voice sounds nothing like Homer's--in fact, the exact opposite: sorta high-pitched, actually.




Margaret Sullavan
"Strange, fey, mysterious--like a voice singing in the snow."
--Louise Brooks




Lauren Bacall
There's something very comforting and down-to-earth about her husky voice. There's a scene in The Big Sleep where tension is high, and Bogie is alone in his office, and we're all a little scared for him. Then he calls Baby on the phone and we hear her say "Hello?" And suddenly the world's a better, sultrier place.

This isn't the scene, but it's still a classic, and still has to do with a phone: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DwXc4N_10rA&feature=related


Gracie Allen
"The moment I heard her voice I figured she had to be a dancer. She sounded like the bird who had been thrown out of the nest for singing off-key. In fact, it turned out to be a perfect voice. It had no lows, so it projected beautifully in a theater. Gracie never had to yell to be heard, her voice just cut through everything else. And years later, when she started singing on the radio, it turned out she had a lovely singing voice. Like Gracie herself, her voice was unforgettable."
--George Burns





Tuesday Weld
And just like this actress, Tuesday's voice was bubbly, garrulous, and slightly deranged. Adorable.

It might not have translated the best to singing, but I still can't help but dig her shot at a single in 1960. Still got plenty of personality:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uSeCHLPp0zs

Stuck in your head yet? Excellent.


Kathryn Leigh Scott
Having played the bulk of the female leads, such as Maggie Evans, Josette, and all of Josette's various incarnations, Scott was arguably the most charming actress on Dark Shadows. I think her cheerful, lively voice has a lot to do with that. It's very versatile, too.

This video's pretty long and contains one of them sweeping, dramatic, climactic spoiler moments. Hey, look, it's in the title! Sorry, but anyone who knows anything about Dark Shadows should already know about this twist. In case you don't want to watch the whole thing you can just listen a few seconds, and you can hear her disembodied voice...or is it really hers?!




Michelle Pfeiffer
Similar to Bacall, Pfeiffer's got the pefect wry, femme fatale vibe going on with her voice. But where she lacks Bacall's comforting tones, she makes up for it in quirkiness and electricity. And like Weld, Pfeiffer loses none of her cheek when she belts one:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DIsETmNtNTs


Arleen Sorkin
Modern day Lina Lamont, only not as grating and with an extra dash of insanity.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vp6wLXj4-5A


Tara Strong
She's basically in every cartoon show ever. Her voice is probably less distinctive than Sorkin's, but I'd argue she's more versatile because of it. In fact, she can even do a pretty mean Harley herself, as evidenced in this trailer for the upcoming Arkham City video game.

Vid is super loud, sorry.



And of course, while we're on the subject, Mark Hamill. You already heard his Joker above, but...heck, why not another dose?



So, who am I forgetting? There are many. I've left out obvious contenders like James Earl Jones, Orson Welles, and Sean Connery. But who else?

Note to the internet: seriously, guys, why you gotta disable so much embedding code? Can't we all be friends?

Dark Shadows (1966) vs. Dark Shadows (1991)

I recently sat down and plowed through the first and only season of the 1991 revival of my beloved Dark Shadows, via the almighty Netflix's Watch Instantly function. Now, I don't pretend to know original Dark Shadows through and through; the damn thing had roughly 100 quadrillion episodes, and Netflix doesn't even have the full second collection up yet. What I haven't been able to watch on Netflix I've snatched in bits and pieces from YouTube. As a result of these patchwork spurts of viewing, I haven't even seen a helluva lot of the infamous 1795 time warp dealy-o (the Kathyrn Leigh Scott-esque screams you hear are from the countless DS fans whose delicate sensibilities I've shocked just now). However, what I haven't seen I've researched avidly (Sidney Falco's favorite word, yup), since that's just the way I am and god loves me even if you don't. Plus, I'm addicted to the show, and that's why I'm allowed to write this, by cracky.

What I want to establish right now is that whenever I talk about something like this, I'm very rarely qualified; I plan on adhering strictly to my credo, that I'm an unqualified hack and what you see here and in other posts is my deep-down-in-mah-gut, knee-jerk take. But what I lack in smarts I makes up for in spirit. And as I'm unemployed, I have a lot of free time.

Unlike the original DS, which took its time--exactly one season--before introducing us to the only real reason anyone remembers the show, Barnabas Collins, the Revival knows what we want and WHAM! The pilot gives us Barnabas Collins, sallow and sparkle-free Vampire squire, as portrayed by Benjamin Cross.

"Hi, kids! You might also know me as Ambassador Sarek, father of that troubled youth Spock in the new Star Trek movie. Yes sir, guess I'm just a guy with a way of inserting myself into roles made iconic by great actors before me. Ha, ha! Don't look me in the eye or I'll cane you."

Cross. Hm. Physically imposing? Sure, though not as tall as you'd think, or as you might like Barnabas to be (he himself points that out in one episode). But his performance? Well, his performance to me is indicative of the principal problem behind the Revival. Both the series and Cross forget that what made the original so fun and fantastic for all its stagy awfulness was the all-out, shameless theatrical melodrama of it all. True, the show was crammed full of cheap sets and costumes, hammy actors stumbling painfully through their lines, and noxious color schemes, but by god, at least it had flair. When I watch a show centered around a gothic mansion that includes vampires, werewolves, time travel, parallel dimensions, and The Hand of Count Petrofi, I don't care about, or want, subtlety.

Nor do I want it played straight. The Revival tries valiantly to make the show less campy by upping the production value (everything's bigger!) and directing the actors to play their parts realistically. The actors are uniformly adequate performers, but by cutting down on the histrionics and hand-wringing, you really end up stifling them in this genre. Because when something outlandish does happen--like, oh, I don't know, Barnabas the vampire freaking biting somebody--the tone is thrown off completely. The camp is all the more jarring and obvious, because it just seems to come out of left field. That's what's wrong with Cross: he's very smooth and charming in his quieter, subdued moments, but he's pretty painful to watch when time comes for him to chew (heh) the scenery. Jonathan Frid, on the other hand, the original Barnabas, was a walking, talking slice of macabre. He somehow managed to play both the silky charmer and the Edgar Allan Poe melodramatic anti-hero simultaneously.

"That's right, look at me, bitches. Is it any wonder I can pull this crazy shit off? Oh, only don't look me in the eye or I'll cane you."

It's unfortunate that Cross has to follow in this guy's footsteps. Frid is physically built for this sort of role; he looks like a regal scarecrow with Rasputin's hypnotic glare. If Cross had maybe performed consistently, playing even his more volatile moments on a quieter keel to keep with the show's almost sleepy feel (which I guess they were trying to pass off as mood), he might have been more effective. However, when the hammy moments come, he's unbelievable and bellow-y. Oh, the bellowing and high school drama club president voice! It...well, it didn't completely sell me on him, let's just say that. To be fair, he was fairly compelling otherwise, and it helps that unlike Frid, Cross is conventionally sexy. Very sexy. But that's another nit-pick I have, one you'll always see from ornery fans whose old-fashioned fandoms are updated in the shiny new world: the sex.

Oh boy, is this ever sexed up. Since the days of Bela Lugosi and maybe even before, authors and movie-makers have heavily sexualized vampirism, sometimes more overtly than at other times. Here that edge is very overt. While I harp on the Revival for being too subtle in mood and acting, I really feel they should have taken all that tact and applied it to their free-wheeling, "bloody bosomy women are hawt" mentality. The original show wasn't very sexy, but it was romantic and tense. A lot of that sprang from the camp aspect of the dialogue and mood, which worked well for a daytime soap in the late '60s. However, in 1991 they might have felt above such theatrical shenanigans, but still realizing they had to hook the audience somehow, they decided sex was the very kick the show needed. Why not, sex is always hip! And vampires...piercing ladies' necks with their long, hard teeth...well! Sexy! It's actually very icky, especially if you were a fan of the original. It's like watching a beloved Disney movie from your childhood remade into a porno: Beauty and the Beast becoming Booty and the Beast (man, I should be a producer! That's gold right there). And just as Cross's over-the-top moments wax phony after establishing his Barnabas as dignified and straight-laced, Rebecca Staab moaning and gyrating in Barnabas's arms as she removes his shirt while he bites her seems very, very off.

"My chest hair will protect me from your puny cross! It's undead chest hair, after all! Ya dig? Oh yeah, baby, ya dig, donchya?"

Beyond the sex and the staging, I was primarily interested in the characterizations, believe it or not. The original show lost interest for me once Alexandra Moltke left, taking with her the clueless, vacant, one-dimensional, utterly adorable and endearing protagonist, Victoria Winters. Moltke really deserves props for what she did with Vicki. When I first started watching her, I thought, "Wow. She stinks. Is she able to register any other emotion than grave befuddlement?" But catching snippets of the other two actresses who tried and failed to play Vicki after Moltke got fed up with her character's dippy innocence and quit, the character just wasn't the same for me and I was surprised by how much I missed our Vicki, potato sack dresses and all. Something about the sincere, muted quality of Moltke's expressions and line readings made the character distinctly hers, and Victoria became the ultimate, modern, gothic ingenue. And because the show centered around her in the first season, we really related to her and started looking to her as the show's moral compass and calm in the eye of the storm. She's a very important character.

That connection is missing here.

At least she still stares glassy-eyed into the distance like a champ.

Joanna Going, who plays Victoria in the Revival, is mind-numbingly, jaw-droppingly, unbelievably beautiful. That much is obvious. She also plays Josette, the most shocking departure from the original show's premise, that had Kathryn Leigh Scott's Maggie Evans dutifully filling in as Barnabas's long lost love's double. Going is very charming and cute as Josette, and while I'm no Francophile, I think her French accent gets the job done. Her Josette is kittenish without being cloying, with a sweetness that makes you feel Barnabas's pain when he loses her. But Going stumbles with Victoria. You can tell she doesn't want to fall into the trap Moltke so desperately extricated herself from, of being saddled with a character so perfectly modeled for the damsel in distress type that her catchphrase has become, "I don't understand." So Going, maybe more than any other actor, plays Victoria straight to the hilt, trying so hard to make her come across as intelligent and capable that she succeeds in...well...making her mildly boring. Without her trademark loopy naivete, Victoria is rather lumpish and dull. She's not helped by the writers, who apparently have little to no interest in developing Victoria in any way, shape, or form.  Much of the original's early episodes were taken up with Vicki's admittedly ineffectual ponderings and yearnings concerning her origins, trying to track down where she was from and who her family was. In the Revival, her wistful orphan status is mentioned very briefly, and framed only in the context of how her state as a loner ties her to Barnabas. At first I thought the writers were rather clever when they decided to pair Vicki with Josette, since it did cut down on the clutter involved in splitting the female lead's role equally between Vicki and Maggie. However, by the end, having Vicki as Josette's mirror image only watered Victoria's character down. We never see her as the Revival's core like we did in the original; we only see her through the infatuated eyes of Barnabas. She's not really a character, she's a device. Vicki was a special part of Barnabas's life in the original because he eventually fell in love with her, not just because she reminded him of Josette. That side gets muddled and lost in the Revival. And all of Going's efforts to make Vicki a sound, solid person are undermined by the writers' choices to keep Vicki perpetually in the dark, like she was in the original. There it was understandable, because Vicki's unfathomably trusting nature was an understood thing. Here, it just makes us shake our head at this wooden girl's thickness.

The rest of the Revival's characters were a mixed bag of good and not-so-good portrayals. Jean Simmons was vastly underused as both Liz Stoddard and Naomi Collins; my homie Pauline Kael once called Simmons "one of the most quietly commanding actresses Hollywood ever trashed," and you get a similar impression here. She does have a great moment toward the end, when her husband realizes Naomi's mind is lost. She's very touching in a simple, straight-forward way. However, because of her limited screen time, she never flourishes like Joan Bennett did when that legend played Collinwood's matriarch.

The sniveling Willie Loomis is hands down my favorite character from the original, and for a long, long time I nursed a quiet crush on John Karlen. They pretty much ruin his character in the Revival, taking his backwoods yokel shtick way, way too far. Jim Fyfe is certainly no eye candy either, and they go all out in making him physically repulsive, with greasy teeth and scruffy face. Another sad tendency of the Revival is to make certain parts too damn sentimental, and it's shameful what they do to the Willie and Barnabas relationship. The original show took its time in laying the groundwork for the fragile camaraderie between the two of them, and in turning Barnabas from a flat-out antagonist to a tentative hero. The Revival, in speeding the plot along, has no idea how to reconcile their dynamic, and the evolution of Barnabas's character. One minute he's caning Willie with abandon, as is always Barnabas's wont, and the next Willie's tenderly nursing him back to health after a brush with sunlight, assuring him he'll "take him fishin' out on the lake, just you an' me, buddy!" Whaaaa? But for all that, I found it impossible to actively dislike this version of Willie. Though not a good performance by any stretch of the imagination, maybe Fyfe's outrageously cartoonish portrayal was a breath of fresh air when compared to some other performances, that were held back by the stolid direction.

One portrayal I was actually quite fond of, and that I might even prefer to the original (scandalous!), is Maggie Evans. I'm guessing that turning her into a hardbitten, lackadaisical psychic is mighty unpopular with most die-hard DS fans, but I think it's great. Ely Pouget is wonderful in a slinky, Lauren Bacall, whisky-and-soda sort of way, giving a very frank and stylized performance. Another flaw of the original is that in the wake of losing Vicki, the writers simply morphed Maggie into the role Moltke vacated, and gone was the wisecracking waitress who served as a jolt of working-class reality in snooty Collinwood. By making Maggie so markedly different from Vicki, the Revival's writers restore Maggie's individuality, in a big way. However, I am not at all a fan of the queasy affair she has with Roy Thinnes' Roger Collins. Mostly because Thinnes is too smarmy as Roger; he lacks Louis Edmond's piquant, elegant buffoonery. He fares much better in the role of oily Rev. Trask, though his monotone yelling during the scene where he gets his comeuppance gets old, and you wonder just how the reincarnation thing works in his case. Barbara Steele is in fine form as Julia Hoffman, bringing more sex appeal to the role than the great Grayson Hall did. Hall, I hate to admit, was always the most cringe-worthy actor for me to watch in the original; not because she was a bad actress, but because she was a good actress who simply did not know how to work with learning her lines at a lightning-fast pace, and you could tell she was suffering (you get that occasionally from Bennett, as well. It's hard seeing greats struggle).

Lysette Anthony as Angelique is another actress who's obviously very good but not given enough time to shine. But really, why bother? Maybe even more than Frid with Barnabas, Angelique belonged to Lara Parker. Anthony may drip with sensuality from top to bottom, but all you need is one glance into Parker's cat eyes and you see it all: the insane, malicious power and the hyperbolic charm.

Shizam! 'Nuff said.

Michael T. Weiss was handsome and meaty as Joe Haskell, and that's all I can say about that; I did have a split second where I thought he was a rustic Jon Hamm when I first saw him. He floundered sadly in the role of Peter Bradford, since a meat-and-potatoes guy like him obviously don't belong in the 1700s. I did find him unexpectedly effective in the scene where he loses it watching Victoria head to the gallows, though.

The only other notable member of the cast I can think of is Barbara Blackburn as Carolyn. I wasn't a fan. Carolyn is one of those characters easy to pick on, since she's a flighty rich blonde, and everyone is supposed to hate the flighty rich blonde. What Nancy Barrett did so well in the original is never once playing down Carolyn's spoiled brat traits, but still revealing the vulnerable, good girl hidden away behind the scathing wit. Blackburn doesn't do that. Frankly...she's sleazy. And too consciously husky-voiced. We never warm up to her, partly because nothing is mentioned about Paul Stoddard, so we have none of Carolyn's abandonment issues or Liz's inner torment. And without that emotional baggage, they're both uninteresting enigmas here. Plus, before we can really figure out if this Carolyn has any soft spots at all, Barnabas puts the hypnosis jazz on her and she becomes his femme fatale slave, very evil and conniving. No sympathy.

However, there is something crucial I must note: why is it that no matter in what version, Carolyn always, always has the best hair? Lookit:

 Seriously! Look at them manes! Okay, so maybe the 'dos themselves are dated, but c'mon! 

Oh, and a very young Joseph Gordon Levitt plays David Collins. You hep cats probably recognize him from recent films like Inception and (500) Days of Summer. Me, I associate him with his work from his teen years, when he played Tommy in 3rd Rock From the Sun. Either way, he's in this show, too. Yessir, yes-a-reeno.

I've come across as far more negative about the Revival than I expected. Wow! Whodathunkit? My hackneyed and unprofessional assessment overall? Obviously competently done, and very intriguing in many ways, but still flawed. I actually regret that it wasn't picked up for another season, though. Maybe Going's acting could have come to match Vicki's personality, since the writers make her far more knowing by the season's end. That would have been fun to explore. But unfortunately and ironically, I think the producers shot themselves in the collective foot by trying to make the franchise more palatable for a '90s audience. The result is often too self-conscious, and the elements they try to keep true to the original feel tacked on and a little out of place. Beautiful to look at, but where's the fun?

Burton, you getting all this?