This was the longest-running castaway series since Robinson Crusoe -- and the six-disc set of Season One of Gilligan's Island shows why this corny, schmaltzy series still survives as strong as ever.
Here, beatifully remastered for DVD, are the complete 36 episodes from Season One, along with the rarely-seen Pilot episode, which features totally different casting for three of the characters.
Here are Bob Denver as the hapless ex-sea cook Gilligan (his first name was never mentioned during the show, but is revealed here to be Willy), in his most famous role -- though his beatnik character Maynard G. Krebs in Dobie Gillis was, I thought, finer.
The island's Skipper is Alan Hale Jnr, son of the famed silent and sound era actor Alan Hale. Junior lived in his father's shadow, until this series came along. From that day on, he was Skipper, on and off the screen, relishing his once-in-a-lifetime role.
And then there is, for me, the true star of the show -- Jim Backus as the billionaire (in the days when a billion was still worth something), Thurston Howell III. Jim Backus in person is every bit as funny as he was as the voice of cartoon-character Mr Magoo -- and his wife, wealthy dizzy socialite Natalie Schafer, who just played herself in this series, is just perfect too.
As if that wasn't enough, there was Russell Johnson as the Professor, the always-helpful scientist and Scoutmaster who keeps the island on track,though never managing to bring off their rescue, and for window-dressing, the two pretty girls, Tina Louise as the blonde starlet Ginger, and Dawn Wells as the brunette farmgirl Mary-Ann.
These 36 episodes are in black-and-white -- colour came only in the second series. And strangely enough, for the first series only five of the actors had lead billing -- Russell Johnson and Dawn Wells had to wait till the end-credits for their billing.
The show's creator and chief writer, Sherwood Schwartz (who also created The Brady Bunch mentions in one of the features in this set how he described to the potential chief sponsor for the show that he saw Gilligan's Island as a social microcosm, of how people of all backgrounds could get along if they needed to for survival.
This oblique answer to the Cold War met with a stony reception from the sponsor, who thought Gilligan's Island was meant to be a comedy. It took quite a while for the sponsor to be reassured. And Sherwood learnt a lesson -- if you're selling a microsocm, make sure the client knows it's a funny microcosm.
And this is still a very funny microcosm. Sure, it's a guilty pleasure to watch Gilligan's Island. And like many (but not all!) guilty pleasures, it's best not taken in excess -- one episode per week is about the correct dosage.
Well, if you remember fondly Gilligan's Island from any of its reruns, or even from its original screening, you'll find its corny charm hasn't dissipated over the years.
The extra features have been well thought out and Sherwood Schwartz's commentary to the pilot episode is warm, affectionate and a slice of television history in its own right.
My only gripe is that for some reason of their own (maximising retail price perhaps?), Warners has seen fit to fit to spread the 36 episodes over six discs, instead of the three discs it's comfortably placed onto in the States.
Perhaps the US discs are flippers instead of single-sided. Would that have mattered? Three discs would certainly have been a whole lot more manageable than six -- and a whole lot cheaper!
