Jonathan Frid. The original Barnabas Collins.
After his day was done, Jonathan Frid put on his coat, nodded to Johnny Depp, and walked off the set. The assistant director rushed to hold an umbrella for him. Frid waved it away.
Burton, peering through his viewfinder, grunted. He didn’t say it, but everyone thought it: Depp’s Barnabas had the suffering, but not the shadow . Not the sad, fragile, otherworldly poetry that made the original a phenomenon. jonathan frid cameo dark shadows movie
The old man looked up, and a small, knowing smile touched his lips. “Is it? I’ve always found Collinwood’s doors open to me.”
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. Jonathan Frid
“Mr. Frid,” Depp said, his voice stripped of affectation. “It’s an honour. I hope we’re… doing it justice.”
But if you know, you know. When the disco ball catches his eye for a split second, you can see a glimmer of something ancient and sad, and for that one frame, the movie stops being a parody and becomes a requiem. The assistant director rushed to hold an umbrella for him
A ripple went through the crew. Depp froze mid-gesture. Burton lowered his camera. There was a sacred, almost fearful silence.