True Blood's Stephen Moyer and Twilight's Edward Cullen may be the vampires of the moment, but if you ask me, no blood-sucking Nosferatu will ever hold a candle to the great Barnabas Collins, epicenter of the daytime soap Dark Shadows, which revolutionized/supernaturalized the genre in the sixties, casting a spell over hordes of young viewers. And if you don't believe me, you can ask Johnny Depp, who reportedly has been obsessed with the show since childhood, and whose production company is planning a theatrical film version, with Depp in the Barnabas role.

Born in the late 18th century, Barnabas (portrayed by Jonathan Frid) came from a family so rich and powerful that their entire seaside Maine town, Collinsport, was named after them. (Come to think of it, he reminds me of another scion from a privileged Maine family known to have committed a youthful transgression or two that he would come to regret, even if he did grow up to become president of the United States.) In Barnabas's case, the infraction was an impetuous dalliance with an exotic blonde maidservant named Angelique (so cool she needed only a single moniker, like Madonna and Beyonce), even as he was engaged to the Martinique heiress Josette du Pres.

Realizing Josette was his true love, Barnabas tried to end the affair with Angelique, with tragic results: Angelique, revealed as a witch, exacts revenge by inflicting Barnabas and his loved ones with a series of devastating curses, until Barnabas finally loses patience with the wench and shoots her dead (or so he thinks, as it's hard to keep a good witch down, especially on a daytime soap). Gasping for life, Angelique summoned a vampire bat from hell, who takes a nip out of Barnabas, cursing him to eternal damnation.

As a vampire, Barnabas could be a real son of a bitch—threatening people, kidnapping/imprisoning the women he covets, being really, really mean to the hired help—but at least he was a conflicted son of a bitch. Barnabas was a tortured soul decades before anyone even heard of Angel. Like all card-carrying vampires, he was an incurable romantic—after all, it was passion that got him into this mess to begin with. His taste in women was impeccable: in 1960s Collinsport, after being released from his 170-year-slumber by a poor schlub named Willie Loomis (John Karlen), he's constantly falling for the hottest babes, like sassy waitress Maggie Evans (Kathryn Leigh Scott) and virginal governess Victoria Winters (Alexandra Moltke), always oblivious to matronly Dr. Julia Hoffman's (Grayson Hall) wicked crush on him.  

Curiously, one thing Barnabas never was was scary—how can you fear a vampire who's forever muffing his lines and who was once caught tiptoeing across the set carrying his black shoes as the end credits rolled? But he was bad, and what self-respecting youth wouldn't find that appealing, especially during the sixties?

Interestingly enough, I've twice moderated Dark Shadows-related public events at the Paley Center: one, in 2001, was a reunion of the show's cast and creative teams; the other, in 2004, was a tribute to Dark Shadows creator Dan Curtis. Unfortunately, Frid couldn't make either one. However, I refuse to give up. How's this for a dream panel: Frid and Depp side by side by side with Barnabas.