674 - (Grayson Hall) - A strange, windless day on the great estate of Collinwood. After another night of horror, a night where the moon shone full, and the wolf who walks like a man attacked again. And in the morning light, a ghost weeps over it, and sends an innocent girl on a mission she cannot understand.
In the second take of yesterday's ending, Chris seems ANGRY that his shirt has been burned. He calls to Amy, screaming her name, but she doesn't come back. He closes the cottage door, his face awash with worry.
In the drawing room at Collinwood, Barnabas asks Julia why Chris would lie and tell her he spent the evening at home. Julia calls it a stupid lie--and Chris isn't stupid. He might be desperate, suggests Barnabas--his room was a shambles, yet, when I went in an hour later, everything was straightened. He could have done that when he came in, points out Julia. The animal attacks began two months ago, recalls Barnabas, about the same time Jennings came to Collinsport.
What are you saying? Asks Julia--it's an animal, not a man. There is one possible explanation, says Barnabas--the man turned into an animal. Seeing the expression on her face, Barnabas says, "Don't be amazed--there's a precedent for this--the first person killed was the clerk at the Collinsport Inn, where Chris was staying--Chris' attitude toward Amy is strange, you said so yourself--you had to practically force him to go see her at Windcliff. . .would you want to see a sister of yours if you'd been responsible for everything that had happened here?" I was reading up on werewolves, he continues, and I'm convinced that's what we are fighting--a man who, when the moon is full, becomes a wolf. I can't believe it protests Julia (but she believes in ghosts, vampires and witches?) When he becomes an animal, says Barn, his strength is almost superhuman--no ordinary bullets will have any effect, but one metal will work--silver--it explains how I stunned him with the head of my cane, and Carolyn's silver bracelets--only silver bullets can kill him--which is an irony for me--I remember my nights when they were so different than those I know now, when silver bullets filled me with dread, as they must Chris Jennings. Julia realizes he's positive this is Chris' fate, but feels the evidence is circumstantial--we must be sure before there's another murder. We will know tonight, he says--the moon will be full and the man will become a werewolf again. "Barnabas, you could be killed," she warns him. I'll have silver to protect me, he assures her. After we know, what then? she asks. Barnabas replies, "One thing at a time--first we must be certain that Chris is this way, and then we'll know what to do.
Amy is reading COLONIAL LIFE IN AMERICA in the study when Chris comes in. She knows it's him before she sees him, and calls him funny. She asks why he was frowning at her. He tells her he was thinking how grownup she's become--too grownup, maybe. She asks how that's possible, and shows him a book Liz gave her about a girl who lived in a house just like Collinwood, way back before any of them were born, before electricity--it's about an ancestor of Mrs. Stoddard's--do we have ancestors? We do, Chris assures her, just like other people. She asks about theirs, but he knows little. Liz knows all about hers, more than she tells, according to David, confides Amy--the Collinses have so many family secrets--do we have them, too? Chris says he doesn't know--he wants Amy to tell him (a werewolf in the family isn't a secret?) How would I know them? she wonders. Is there something you're afraid to tell me? asks Chris. Amy is confused. If there was something you needed to tell me, says Chris, you'd come to me and tell me as much as you could, if you didn't understand, right? Amy stares at him, nonplused.
I guess I would, she answers. Chris asks if there's anything right now you want to discuss--something about ME, maybe?--I'm upset about this afternoon, your coming to the cottage, building the fire. She claims she did it because she was cold--I wasn't playing with matches. He asks about the shirt he found in the fire--why did you burn it? It was all dirty, she says. I agree, says Chris, but we can't burn all our dirty shirts. I saw it and threw it into the fire, she says.
Carolyn and a friend named Donna Friedlander join them in the study. Donna, who's been enjoying a tour of the house and is taking interior design, seems taken with Chris. She mentions all the fascinating antiques in the house--it's almost a museum (when people come to see `em). Carolyn sourly says she sometimes thinks it's exactly that. Chris spots the pentagram on Carolyn's face. Seeing how upset he is, she asks what's wrong.
Chris tells Carolyn nothing is the matter. Carolyn tells Donna to come see the furniture in the drawing room. The two girls leave the study. Donna immediately tells Carolyn Chris is my type--moody. Carolyn agrees to that assessment, and walks away.
Chris stares out the window. Amy apologizes to him about the shirt. He isn't angry at her, he says, but she feels he's angry with someone. Myself, he says--do you understand that? Of course, she says, when I left your house, I was kind of mad at myself for burning the shirt, only. . .she stops. Her brother lifts her up high so he can speak to her face to face, then asks who or what called her from the cottage and made her leave. She claims not to know. Mrs. Stoddard or Carolyn or David. She said it was a woman, Chris says. Amy must know. Amy says she sometimes thinks she hears him. He isn't exactly calling to her, but--one night, she thought she heard him calling her name--I went to the window, it was so bright, almost as bright as day, the moon was so big, and I thought I heard you crying--that's silly, though, because boys don't cry--you wasn't crying, right? No, he hastily tells her. Perhaps you were just unhappy, suggests Amy--why? It's hard to lead your life without being unhappy sometimes, he says. I know you're unhappy sometimes, she says. He admits this, but tells her not to worry--it has nothing to do with you--I'm going to be sure nothing interferes with us, I promise that. He hugs her.
5 PM - Barnabas stands by the clock, his face filled with determination. You had to have posed for the foyer portrait, Donna remarks to Barnabas. Teasingly, he says if I had, think how old it would make me (cute joke, Barn). Julia sips tea in the drawing room. Barnabas is grinning as he enters the drawing room and observes how early it's getting dark. Carolyn complains she hates early sunsets. Donna is searching her purse for a bus schedule. Carolyn tells her next time she comes out, she's sure Barnabas will be delighted to show her his house, which he's kept almost as it was when the original Barnabas lived there. Barnabas supposes Donna would find it much too primitive. When Chris passes by, Barnabas stops him and invites him in. Donna is also eager for Jennings to join them. I have to go, insists Chris. Barnabas chastises him for always running off--I was just about to invite Donna to the Old House--why shouldn't we have an impromptu dinner party there? (Willie will love unexpected company, I'm sure.) Julia agrees it's a great idea. Donna is up for it, but Chris says no, even though Carolyn tells him Barnabas might not be in this expansive a mood some other time. Let's all go now, suggests Barnabas. Chris says he can't--I must go to Bangor to meet some guy who's flying out in the morning--it's business and I can't cancel it. Donna pipes up and asks him to drive her to Bangor--save her the dreadful bus trip. Of course Chris will, says Carolyn--he'll be delighted to have the company. Chris tries to wiggle out of it by claiming that he's leaving right now, but that's no problem for Donna--she's ready! Barnabas listens intently as Chris assures them it's all right. He turns away, his expression helpless, sick and trapped.
Donna thanks Carolyn for a lovely day and promises to come back. She joins Chris outside, who tells her his car is parked by the gate--I live on the estate, in a cottage. Donna asks to see it--sometime, and notices how very distracted he is. I've got a headache, says Chris, I get them all the time, like a migraine--I might not be able to go. She volunteers to drive, but he says these headaches last and he has to try to get through them. He offers her his car--leave it at the bus station with the keys under the seat--by morning, I'll be a new man. He races off, leaving Donna holding the keys.
Carolyn gathers up the tea items, explaining to Barnabas and Julia that she doesn't really know Donna that well--she's always been nice, too nice, I sometimes think--she acts as though we're the best of friends, which we're not. (is she jealous of Donna and Chris?) She hurries out with the tray. Julia reminds Barnabas that Donna IS driving to Bangor with Chris--speculation is a dangerous game, she warns, I was almost convinced. "I wouldn't stop being," advises Barnabas. But if he's driving her, says Julia--unless he's doing it deliberately. Barnabas says he wouldn't be, he has no control over what he's doing when there's a full moon. Then we shouldn't have let Donna go with him, points out Julia. Barnabas guesses Chris has made his apologizes and returned to his cottage. How can you be so sure? Asks Julia. I saw an expression on his face when I was urging him to stay, says Barn--he was suddenly aware of all of us looking at him--"His face suddenly registered an instant reflect--panic. I understand it, Julia. Even I remember that."
Chris sits in the dark cottage, looking out the window. He pains descend on him. He checks his face for extra hair and turns on the light. A knock sounds at the door--Donna. She tells him she isn't going to use his car--it would mean you'd have to walk into town to retrieve it, and you aren't feeling well. Chris assures her he feels better--I took some medicine. Donna wants to come in to call a cab. He lets her in, telling her she can only stay a moment. She tells him she doesn't understand men--why is a guy like you living in a place like this?--not that it isn't nice, but. Chris points to the phone, sounding impatient. He groans with pain and orders her to go, get out, screaming the words at her. She wants to call Julia, but he shouts "NO!" He grabs the phone away from her. I was just doing it for your own good, she protests. "I should have known why I was attracted to you," says Donna--"I mean you're crazy!" He pleads with her to get out, his voice laced with agony. We see only Donna's eyes, huge, blue, looking like they're about to start from her head, and her mouth, which drops open to the size of an egg. We hear growling. Donna races from the cottage, screaming.
Barnabas tells Julia the moon is rising--I'm going to Chris' cottage. Julia reminds him Chris will have changed. Barnabas holds up his cane. "I have this--the power of the silver wolf's head is legendary. I subdued him once with this, I can do it again." He tells Julia to stay here. No, she says. "Yes," he retorts. "Do as I say." (tell him to go f*** himself, girl!) Julia's eyes turn to the sky, filled with fear. (Barnabas is such a chauvinist.)
The werewolf pursues a breathless Donna through the woods. Foolishly, she stops to catch her breath.
Barnabas once again finds the cottage in a topsy turvy state. He looks around, perturbed. Julia comes in. "It's happened, hasn't it--and he's gone."
Donna Friendlander, covered with blood, eyes open and staring, lies in the woods, her body twisted and wrecked, dead.
NOTES: Powerful episode. Barnabas' empathy for this creature is so HIM, and now he is evolving into hero than anti-hero. His attitude toward Julia sucks, of course, but notice that she didn't STAY as ordered. Donna's body looked very scary for daytime TV, and her face when she saw Chris transform was amazing to behold. Denise Nickerson's performance continues to amaze me, and Frid did a wonderful job today, too, describing the werewolf to Julia and showing how much he understands the other man's pain.
675 - (Grayson Hall) - The sun shines fair over Collinwood, and the great estate seems calm. But the calmness is deceptive, for a lifeless body has been found on its grounds--the body of an unknown woman, who now lies in the Collinsport Morgue, shut out from this bright day because she made the mistake of being in the woods at the rise of the full moon.
The Collinsport morgue is one stark, sad, creepy place. Sheriff Patterson brings Carolyn in to identify Donna Fridlander's body, which, although it had no ID, the label on her skirt came from a Bangor store. Carolyn tells him she had a friend visiting from there yesterday. Donna left just before dark, and I'm sure it isn't her. Patterson draws the sheet back from the body and exposes the face. "Donna!" cries Carolyn--what happened to her?--I can't believe it--she left with Chris. "Who is Chris?" asks the sheriff. Carolyn turns a stricken face to him.
Patterson leads Carolyn into his office. She suggests it could have been the same animal who attacked me. He realizes it's a great shock to her, and gets her a glass of water from the water cooler. Carolyn tells him Donna knew only me in Collinsport, and this was Donna's first visit--she lived with an aunt. Carolyn wants to call her, but Patterson tells her later.
I hadn't known Donna long, explains Carolyn, she was studying to be an interior decorator and we met through friends. Chris Jennings, Tom's brother, lives on a cottage on the estate--he was driving to Bangor for the evening and Donna was going with him. Patterson asks if she saw them pulling away. I didn't, replies Carolyn--Chris parked at the gate--I didn't see him today, but I did see the car there--I figured Chris got in very late, that's all. Donna never got to Bangor, says the sheriff, now we must find out if Chris did.
At the cottage, Chris' phone lies on the floor, off the hook. The room is a shambles once again. Chris, shirt blood-streaked, comes in and goes through the ritual of closing his blinds, then straightening out the room. He can't remember what happened. He hates coming back here, knowing last night was no different from the night before. He sees blood on his shirt and slams a lamp down on a table, smashing it to bits. We get a nice chest shot as he discards the bloody shirt and slips into a blue sweater. Under a table, he finds Donna's cute little black purse--that girl--Donna! He remembers. He smashes the purse down on the table and continues to right the room, clearly agonizing over what might have happened. Carolyn comes to the cottage; he lets her in--I tried to call, she says. The phone isn't working, says Chris. She relates the story of Donna's death, quickly, but the sheriff is at the door even as she speaks. I must ask you some questions, says Patterson. He spots Carolyn and seems to instinctively know she's here to bring Chris up to date--and isn't happy about it. Carolyn asks if there's anything illegal about that. The sheriff assures her there isn't, but asks if she plans to stay for the questioning. Chris insists she return to Collinwood, and he and Carolyn clasp hands before she goes. Chris tells the sheriff he knows about Donna's death, and as he's speaking, spots her purse on the table. I didn't drive Donna to Bangor, says Chris, casually dropping a newspaper on the purse, covering it--I got one of my migraines and told Donna to take my car and keys and leave it at the Collinsport bus station. Your car is at the gate, says Patterson, so apparently Donna never took it. I didn't go to town to pick it up, that much I'm sure of, says Chris. Patterson asks if he lives there alone. Yes, says Chris. Did you bring Donna to the cottage when you had your migraine? Asks Patterson. No, says Chris, I left Donna at Collinwood--I spent last evening resting because I didn't feel well, and spent the entire night alone--I didn't hear anything unusual. Patterson asks to see the rest of the house. Chris reminds him, you must have a warrant to search. Come with me, the sheriff orders Chris--there's something that doesn't make sense--Donna was killed very close to the cottage, and from the appearance of the body, she put up quite a fight--yet you claim you heard nothing. That's right, says Chris. Patterson suggests, "Perhaps you'll remember better in town--do you want to come with me or take your own car?
Chris realizes he's trying to trap him and reminds him, I don't have my car keys, and you know it. Oh, yeah, I forgot, says the sheriff, you gave your keys to the girl? Chris leaves with the sheriff. The newspaper covers the purse on the table.
Barnabas surveys a headline in the COLLINSPORT STAR--"Mystery Murder." Julia and Barnabas feel responsible for Donna's death--if we hadn't let Chris take Donna with him, could we have stopped it? queries Julia. Barnabas doubts it--wherever Chris and Donna went last night was Donna's fault--she must have delayed him until the moon was up--the werewolf can't help it--he doesn't choose his victims. Carolyn bursts in to tell them Chris was taken to the police station. Patterson is making a terrible mistake, insists Carolyn; Chris had nothing to do with Donna's death.
Julia asks if she's positive. Of course I am, says Carolyn. Barnabas asks her if she knows where Chris was last night. At home, says Carolyn defensively--since he didn't go to Bangor. Barnabas tells her Chris wasn't at home--we went to the cottage last night when we saw the car was still here--when I invited him to dinner, Chris insisted he had to go to Bangor. Carolyn accuses them of thinking Chris is involved. Julia says we don't know. I'm sure he's not, insists Carolyn. Are you. . .interested in Chris? Asks Barn. Carolyn tosses back an accusation that she'll disgrace the family by liking a man being questioned by the police. Of course not, says Barnabas, I just wondered how much you like him. She just gives her cousin a look. Quite a lot, comments Barnabas. Carolyn admits I DO like Chris enough that it's important I know everything about him--I want you to tell me if there's something you know that I don't. Julia lies and tells her they don't know anymore than she does. I'm going to call our lawyer, Garner, and ask his advice, says Carolyn. (while you're at it, send the son back in time to wrest Vicki away from doofus Peter Bradford!) She closes the double doors and picks up the phone out in the foyer.
Back in the drawing room, Julia asks Barnabas what they're going to do--that poor girl! We can't worry about her now, he says--I want to go to the cottage since I'm sure someone from the sheriff's office will be there to search it shortly, and I want to get there first.
On the phone, Carolyn asks for help from their lawyer--I'm concerned Chris doesn't know his rights, she says--the police might get him to say anything--call the sheriff and go there if necessary. Gardner tells her yes, and she's relieved. (why not Tony Peterson?)
Barnabas and Julia arrive at the cottage. What are you looking for? She asks. Signs of guilt Chris didn't have time to dispose of, says Barn--I want to search for the shirt he was wearing last night. He goes to check the bedroom. Julia half-heartedly looks in some drawers, finding nothing, then taps the table on which the newspaper-covered purse sits. She picks up the newspaper to look at it, then spies the purse on the table. She finds an ID inside--Donna's--and calls Barnabas, who emerges from the bedroom with the bloodstained shirt. Julia shows him the purse. I was right, says Barnabas--and I'm sorry I was. Julia wants to take the evidence to the sheriff immediately. Barnabas raises the shade and reminds her there will be another full moon tonight (how many do they have in Collinsport, anyway)? And he will change, wherever they're questioning him, says Julia--we must go warn them. Barnabas isn't finished, and he doesn't know what to do yet--"There are so many possibilities," he says.
Patterson questions a pacing Chris, who admits he MAY have left the cottage, but doesn't remember, can't think--I was sick, Chris reminds him, I may have gone out, but I wasn't myself. Patterson asks if he was drinking. I might have, Chris replies. I want to leave you here to try to remember, says Patterson sourly, and this time make it a story I can't punch holes in. Left alone, Chris stares out the widow. He asks Patterson what time it is. 4:30, says the sheriff--you have plenty of time. But I don't, realizes Chris, I must get out of here--and fast!
Barnabas rolls up Chris' shirt and tells Julia the police will probably be here shortly. You can't do what you're planning to do, she warns--it's madness. We'll discuss it on the way back to Collinwood, he insists. Listen to my viewpoint, she begs. I respect it, he assures her, but I must follow my own intuition this time--come quickly. (always ordering her around!) They leave the cottage.
Unnerved, Chris wonders how much time he has. Give up and get it over with, he tells himself--tell Patterson what happened last night, what will happen tonight. He calls to the sheriff--I remember everything! he shouts. Patterson is on the phone with Barnabas--I'm glad you called, Mr. Collins, thank you. Patterson joins Chris, much nicer now--you shouldn't be embarrassed over his blackout last night, Mr. Jennings--you're lucky you were out drinking with Barnabas Collins, the best alibi in town--I apologize for causing you so much trouble, but I know now that you spent the night at Barnabas' house. He advises Chris to drink milk to line his stomach before bingeing again. (whoa, Barn knows he did it, yet gave him an alibi! How ironic!)
Chris returns to the cottage, where Barnabas awaits for him in the dark. I don't know why you did what you did, says Chris, but I'm grateful--I appreciate it. However, the clock is striking 6:00 and Chris tells Barnabas, "Get out, I can't talk now!" You're coming with me when I leave, says Barnabas with assurance--"I know you, Chris, are innocent." Chris is grateful but still wants to be left alone--you don't understand, Mr. Collins. Yes I do, says Barnabas--the most important thing about you--that you are innocent. What do you mean by that? Asks Chris. Barnabas rises and says, "I know that you are the werewolf."
Chris stares at him, disbelieving and stunned.
NOTES: Barnabas is one brave dude (or perhaps not too bright)--he knows Chris is on the cusp of changing into an animal who will not remember the huge favor he did for him--and tear him to ribbons once he transforms! It reminds me of the cojones Julia displayed when she faced Barnabas in her bedroom, knowing he was a vampire, hoping her offer of a cure was something he'd want.
Poor Donna Friedlander, we hardly knew ye. You were merely a bullseye, a quickie character with a one or two shot role as victim of a supernatural creature. They used `em by the dozen in STAR TREK. She had the hots for Chris and all it got her was dead. Pretty creepy, violent stuff, especially for daytime TV--and it left a lot to our imagination, instead of showing guts and blood all over the place!
Barnabas is such a softy here, in a good way. He's fond of Amy and knows her brother, Chris, is all she has left. His empathy is such that he understands what Chris is going through, because he, too, turned into a creature out of his control. And now that he's human, he wants to help this good man with a serious hair, teeth and claw problem. I think it's really sweet. Of course, Julia is the voice of reason, wanting to go to the cops, but Barnabas won't have that. He always seems able to get Julia to disobey the law, even though her instincts are the right ones.
Love, Robin
