Jonathan Frid. The original Barnabas Collins.
He then told a story. About a rainy afternoon in 1966, when he first put on the fangs. He was a classically trained Shakespearean actor, terrified of being a ham. The director told him: Don’t play a vampire. Play a man who has just realized he will never see the sunrise again. Play the loneliness. jonathan frid cameo dark shadows movie
“I walked in the dark for two hundred years,” he said, stepping into the cold English drizzle. “A little rain won’t hurt me now.” Jonathan Frid
“Mr. Frid,” Depp said, his voice stripped of affectation. “It’s an honour. I hope we’re… doing it justice.” About a rainy afternoon in 1966, when he
Frid then did something extraordinary. He stood up, slowly, leaning on a silver-knobbed cane. He walked to the edge of the set—the grand staircase, the fake cobwebs, the wind machine—and he simply was Barnabas.
He didn’t bare his teeth. He didn’t speak. He just looked up the stairs, as if hearing a ghost. His face crumpled, not with rage, but with a century of missed birthdays, of love turned to dust, of the one song he could never forget. For five seconds, he was the most heartbreaking creature in the world. Then he blinked, and he was just a sweet, frail old man again.
Frid didn’t stand to greet anyone. He didn’t need to. He just watched the playback of the last take on a nearby monitor. Depp sidled over, his Barnabas makeup looking suddenly like a costume next to the real thing.