Julia: Yes, Barnabas, the title is "Clueless Bachelors: a Woman's Guide to the Really Hardcore Cases," by Miss Helen Gurley Brown.  It's just a little... LIGHT reading... nothing of any PRACTICAL value...

I don't have the energy to make a big deal over this point, but I personally do not see the conflict in both celebrating the "camp" elements of DS AND regarding it as a work of art.  (I have philosophical notions with the concept of "taking something seriously"--the late Johan Huizinga argued back in the 1940s that "play" and the playful attitude have been the true sources of whatever progress we've managed to make in human civilization, and Hakim Bey did a witty update on Huizinga's proposals in his 1980s broadsheets, "TAZ: the Temporary Autonomous Zone."  Also, cf Jack Smith's brilliant essay on the Filmic Apotheosis of Maria Montez which suggests a different way of looking at anything from 1940s spectacle films to 1960s TV shows along lines that subvert our culture's obsessive focus upon hierarchies of excellence and achievement.

I think there is something very subversive about DS that occasionally breaks the surface of the narrative but often is simply lurking amidst the spectacular display of fabulous costumes, performances, and dialogue.  To my mind, this is the key thing that makes DS so unique.  A lot of the energy that was emerging in the off-(off-) Broadway scene in NYC theatre seems to have been feeding into DS.  There are a lot of examples that come to mind--the performances of Erica Fitz, Diana Davila, Elizabeth Eis and some of the other day players as much as the performances by the big swingers (Grayson, Thayer, Selby, Parker, Frid) all of whom HAD been involved in some of the more experimental theatre in NYC.

I think this sort of thing may have been what Nancy Barrett had in mind when she claimed that DS died because it was too "ambitious."  Not just ambitious in terms of constantly switching the direction of the story so as to keep the audience surprised and guessing, but also ambitious in an artistic sense.  I really do think it re-defined daytime TV and was truly cutting edge in several respects.

The period that Luciaphil has been chronicling so brilliantly in her column represents the time when DS was at its most literary, in some ways.  I am looking forward to reading Francis Swann's novel, The Brass Key, to see how much his DS scripts resemble an actualy Gothic novel he wrote.

G.

Quentin:  "Bramwell, I TOLD YOU you were expressly forbidden to use my Staircase through Time to borrow Julia's blow-dryer!  Only *I* am allowed that privilege!"

Barnabas:  "Roger, get your tongue out of there immediately!  I told you *I* have first dibs!"

Well, Stuart Townsend is a real sexpot,so it does indeed sound as if they're going for something that looks a lot more like the X Files than Night Stalker (I personally thought the reputed resemblance between the two series was greatly exaggerated).

Does anybody have a photo of Ms. Union handy?  If she looks like the slinky-and-champagne type, it'll be a clue to the UST (unresolved sexual tension) factor in her partnership with the Townsend character.

G.

Isn't the Gilmore Boarding House show a big hit?  It seems to me that the recent references to DS on that series mentioned here a few weeks back point to DS' firm position in the ranks of hip, cult, vintage pop culture.  Somewhere in between Twilight Zone and Boris Karloff's Thriller, perhaps.

I'd say that the fact that the series has been in print continuously on home entertainment VHS since the early 90s, plus the fact that the DVD sets appear to be sellling very briskly, shows that the show is far from in danger of disappearing.  In fact, since the start of the 1990s, DS has been more widely visible than at any time since the late Sixties--at least, to my eye (I was living abroad throughout much of the 1980s).

G.

Well, Captain, I'm not sure I'd entirely agree with you in that analysis, insofar as the respective moral attributes of Barnabas and Quentin are concerned.

After all,

[spoiler]Barnabas killed Carl, his own flesh and blood, when the latter learned his secret, and did it fairly callously.  If Barnabas felt remorse for having killed Carl, I don't recall having seen it.  Dirk may not have been the most likeable fellow in the world, but he was also sacrificed in a coldly Machiavellian manoeuvre that wound up backfiring on Barn.

As for Quentin, he did offer to sacrifice himself to save Jamison, so he was not entirely free of compassion.[/spoiler]

Glad to hear you enjoy the 1897 story.  It's the top favorite of many fans.

Hmmmm... thanks for that link, darling Mysterioso.

It reminds me there was definitely SOMETHING hinted at there that I WANTED to see, but never did... on DS...

*sly wink* G.