The Other Siblings

Unlike Jack with Steve or Steve with Adrienne, there is no consistent through line that develops the relationship for the other Johnson sibling pair—at least not one that I can trace. Anyone else find this to be a pity?

Adrienne first found out that Jack was Billy at around the same time he did, and her reaction was to eagerly embrace the relationship. You would think that Adrienne the rape victim would feel some qualms about welcoming a rapist into the family, but she does not. I can (just) understand Jo overlooking Jack’s past misdeeds. But Adrienne?

After that, the show seemed to use the relationship in whatever way was convenient for what they were trying to do at the time. And because Jack and Adrienne’s scenes together are so infrequent, there isn’t much consistency. I don’t want to exaggerate: other than Adrienne’s initial reaction, their scenes don’t come off as inappropriate or wrong, but I think an opportunity was missed. The show already has Jo as Jack’s cheerleader, they don’t need Adrienne for that. And Steve, of course, has his own thicket of dysfunction regarding his little baby brother Billy and the grown-up Jack. Adrienne could have been more neutral, more objective, a middle ground between the other two. She could have tried to temper Jo’s headlong rush to forgive Jack anything when he was still at his worst, and also encourage Steve to give Jack a chance when he starts to change for the better. Also, I can imagine Adrienne representing for Jack, in a concrete, inescapable way, everything that Duke was and that Jack fears he could be.

But, for all that, they have some good individual scene together. This first scene takes place back in 1989, when Jack was still a pretty bad guy. It is part of a mini-arc involving Alexander’s birth (Anjelica’s son), and the reveal that Justin is his father. This is a lovely example of using the same incident in different ways, affecting multiple characters and storylines. Jack has been determinedly avoiding all things Johnson, and with his father in prison, that means Anjelica is the only family he has left. Jack is excited, almost too much so, about his new stepbrother—which reveals to the audience Jack’s essential loneliness. Jo and Steve both register this excitement, at different times, and are hurt by it. I just love the irony of Jack hurting his family, because of his longing for a family.

Adrienne, however, is more upset by Jack’s relationship with Anjelica, when it comes out that Justin is the father of the baby:

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(I included, as a bonus, Jack’s scene with Jo beforehand—one of the only times she is less than effusively supportive with him. The best moment here is Jo’s obvious surprise when Jack asks her if Dr. Curtis is okay. “Are you okay?” she replies. She thinks he must not be feeling well, to actually ask her about something in her life!)

When Adrienne says that she’d like to believe Jack has a heart, for her mother’s sake (but from her tone, clearly not believing it), it is the kind of skepticism I’d have liked Adrienne to feel all along. I also love the moment when she mutters to herself that the fact that Anjelica raised Jack should be enough of a lesson for Justin regarding her parenting skills. Jack’s “ouch” shows Adrienne hit a nerve—which might surprise Jack as much as anyone, that he cares what she thinks of him. Maybe the Johnsons matter to him more than he thought.

And now fast-forwarding back to where I am in 1990, here’s another good Jack/Adrienne scene:

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Adrienne’s passionate defense of Jack comes a little bit out of the blue, but it’s still pretty great. It fits with Adrienne’s character in general, and it’s nice to see after all the skepticism Jack is getting from Steve. Plus, having Roman there as the voice of doubt and skepticism helps to balance things out, to keep this from feeling like character propping. My favorite part of the scene is Jack’s expression in the background, as Adrienne calls him “my brother” and says she believes him and argues that Roman should give him a chance. It is clearly a novelty for him to have anyone spring to his defense, and he is very surprised, even thrilled. I also love his look as he’s hugging Adrienne afterward, like he can’t believe this is happening. Adrienne and Jack’s relationship may not be consistent, but Jack’s redemption is—and a year later, this whole family thing is still new to him.

 

Children in Jeopardy

If last week was a fun revisit that made me a bit nostalgic for the current show, this week reminded me of all the reasons I quit watching.

Actually, that’s not quite fair. The show does feel more cohesive, less disjointed. Plot points seem to happen in ways that generally follow the logic of storytelling instead of lurching all over the place in the way I used to find so maddening. It feels like the show actually has a mapped out plan for what is going to happen (as a soap should), and is executing it.

That goes a long way with me. I can enjoy the most tired, cliched storyline if it is well executed. But, this week, Ciara’s kidnapping has been absolutely excruciating. I think a lot of it had to do with watching the little girl who plays her:

With a creepy guy occasionally fondling her bows.

Kristian Alphonso has done very well playing the strung out, terrified mother, and I give her props for that. But by putting a child in jeopardy and stringing it along all week and then ending with Bo’s vision of Ciara being shot, the show went for the cheapest, laziest way of jacking up the emotional stakes.

Speaking of children:

Why, oh, why, Days? I have no idea how old Molly Burnett is, but I know Melanie is 18 and looks and acts younger. (And terrible—why does she look so terrible?) When she and Phillip were in bed together it truly looked like Phillip was in bed with a child. When that inevitable Days sex sax music kicked in, it was like something out of “barely legal” porn. (Hm, I await the many blog hits I’m going to get with that phrase.) And the really creepy thing is that this was all presented as though Melanie could be a legitimate point on the triangle with Stephanie. Yes, I know she got smacked down by Phillip the next day, but the show never acknowledged how weird and wrong it all was. Obviously, they don’t think so, and that’s what creeps me out most of all.

I don’t like being all doom and gloom and negativity, though, so I will point out that it was wonderful to see Stephanie, and to see her be flirty and lighthearted with Nathan, and standing her ground with Phillip. I think Shelley is looking gorgeous:

So is Ari Zucker:

And I’ve been meaning to post this. I love Wally Kurth’s sleek new haircut, but let’s not forget his contribution to the Pantheon of Days Mullets:

Screencaps NBC

 

Fresh Look

This week, I’m a Days watcher again.

My mom still watches the current show, so when she is visiting me, as she is this week, we watch it together. I haven’t been following recaps or message boards at all lately, so I really got to approach this with a fresh eye and very few preconceived notions. I have to say, it was fun.

Justin!

Wally Kurth is looking good. I was so tickled to hear him say “Uncle Vic” again. Nice to see him join the ranks with EJ and Chris Kositchek of “suddenly I have a law degree” Salemites. And I thought the teasers about his problems with Adrienne were fairly well done. A gradually introduced breakup is much better than a “by the way, we’re divorced” fait accompli. It (potentially) gives Wally Kurth something interesting to do and gives fans of the couple some time to get used to the idea of them splitting up.

My mom has switched her allegiance from EJ to Rafe for “hottest guy in Salem,” and I guess I can see what she’s talking about:

I thought he was working the sad, soulful looks pretty well in his breakup with Sami. That “dead fiancee’s sister put up by Stefano accusing him of murder but he can’t tell Sami the truth because he has to protect Arianna” plot twist seemed, um, a bit contrived, though. (Just me?) Couldn’t they come up with a more organic breakup than that? How about tensions arising from dealing with Grace’s death?

Speaking of that—when Ken Corday said that he learned from Zach’s death that “you don’t kill children” he forget to add the corollary, that “unless it’s the baby of a minor character that no one cares about, in which case they’re disposable.”

Three mothers, two fathers, three babies. Then two mothers, two babies. Now one baby. In a way, I have to admire the soap logic here, the mathematical precision of it. But killing Grace off reveals, if it wasn’t obvious before, how truly these babies have been introduced as plot contrivances and pawns to be shuffled around.

I still can’t figure out who EJ is supposed to really be in love with, and I don’t know why he’s so obsessed with mourning a baby he never knew was his while she was alive. I see Nicole is still acting like a desperate dishrag, but also that Ari is still selling it. I did enjoy Stefano sneering at her for her qualms of conscience for stealing Sami’s baby when she isn’t going to do anything to make it better. I was pretty surprised to see Nicole and Sami acting all buddy buddy, but it does twist the knife for Nicole to have to watch a “friend” (for lack of a better word) suffer, and know that she caused it. There is something satisfyingly soapy about that, but again, just like with Grace’s death, seems to go too far—this time in crucifying Nicole’s character for the sake of Sami’s.

I guess that’s nothing new.

I see Lucas is still at it, throwing judgments around and blaming other people for his problems:

Why is my nephew such a tool?

In addition to blaming Maggie for not telling him, or rather re-telling him, about Chloe’s infidelity (which I noticed he didn’t apply the same standard to Kate), he took my breath away when he said casually to Sami, as his justification for shooting, EJ, “Besides, EJ deserved to die.” All the while convicting Rafe on the flimsiest evidence for supposedly killing his fiancee. I suppose if Rafe had pulled Lucas aside and said, “But Lucas, she deserved to die,” Lucas would have said, “Oh, well, why didn’t you say so?”

Screencaps NBC

 

Forgetting

Shane and Kim are sometimes forgotten when the time comes to pay homage to Days’ greatest couples. I’m not sure why, though it probably has to do with the fact that neither actor ever returned to the show in the merry go round of comings-and-goings that you commonly see on soaps.

They are also the only supercouple to end in permanent dissolution rather than death (or, of course, a happy ending). Reading their character profiles is a somewhat depressing experience, seeing the ignominious slide through another WTD story, Shayla, and then a new Kimberly’s return in 1992 with multiple personalities.

All that is still in the future, however. At the moment (1990) they are just going around in another iteration of the breakup/makeup story that they did so many times on the show. Shane has been presumed dead, but of course he isn’t dead, just wandering around with amnesia. In his absence Kim seeks comfort with Cal Winters. Then Shane reappears (still with amnesia) and complications ensue.

I don’t remember this storyline as being particularly good at the time, and very likely it wasn’t. The scenario is certainly overused and familiar—back from the dead/amnesia/interloper/WTD … pretty much every soap story cliche crammed into one story.

I don’t have many Shane and Kim clips on my DVDs, only scenes that overlap with Steve and Kayla. But, for some unknown reason this scene is included:

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As an example of what Days used to do well and now does so poorly, this scene is perfect. The use of history is impeccable. I love how Shane’s discovery that she used to be a prostitute—and that he used that (and her) in one of his spy operations—makes him doubt their entire love story. Thankfully, it’s not as simple as Shane thinking, “I can’t believe I’m married to a prostitute,” or “Get out of my sight, you trollop.” Rather, it’s that all those crazy obstacles and opposites-attract situations that we associate with the supercouples would, in real life, make someone say, “It would never work.” And that’s pretty much Shane’s reaction.

He accuses her of whitewashing their past and making it something that it wasn’t. That gives Kim the chance to get angry that he’s using this one small part of their past to ruin everything else. And then later to launch into a heartfelt speech about how she remembers their love, and how they got over those obstacles so they didn’t matter anymore. Shane, still skeptical, asks if she thinks their love is so strong as to get through this (the amnesia), and Kim says yes. And we see he is affected by her certainty. It’s a great way to bring the past into the present, as we see Shane react to it, and to relate it to their problems now.

All I could think, watching this, is how much I would have loved to see a scene like this when Steve and Kayla returned in 2006. I could imagine Kayla glossing over some of the more unsavory elements of their past because she doesn’t see them as relevant anymore. And I could see Steve, as he finds out about them, falling back into the old Steve Johnson-style self-loathing, but with a twist—as he begins to care more and more for Kayla, does he really want to be the guy who stalked her and put her life in danger and broke her heart?

 

The Key Kiss

Wait, is this a supercouple scenario I see?

After months and months of a baby step after baby step, Days’ team of writers takes the plunge on Jack and Jennifer—with a vengeance. I get the sense that the new headwriter, having finally made the decision about which direction to go, was impatient to get going already. Personally, I would have liked to have seen this absolutely crucial event in the Jack and Jen relationship get a bit more buildup, and maybe take a week or two to play out. Not from an emotional or a believability perspective, but just from a soapy storytelling perspective.

But, what does happen is pretty darn wonderful. Isabella decides she’s going to do Jack a favor, and goes to Jen to tell her that Jack loves her. (Which I admit jarred me a little—the L word, already? What happened to that soap classic, “he has feelings for you”?) This sends Jen rushing over the Steve’s house, where Jack is looking for the key:

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Emboldened by Isabella, Jen is pressing Jack further than she ever has before. When she asks him if he really wants her out of his life, Matt Ashford does a nice hesitation where we can see Jack actually contemplating not having Jen in his life at all, and how little he likes the idea. But he just says, “That’s what I said, isn’t it?” (I really, really love how Jack is constantly using these evasions—”we already talked about this,” “that’s what I said,”—instead of repeating that he doesn’t want her or care about her. It nicely shows his reluctance to lie to Jen, his dislike of hurting her, and his distrust of his ability to be convincing.)

Her determination to break through, and his increasingly desperate attempts to fend her off, heightens both of their emotions nicely—just before they have to hide together in the secret tunnel at Steve’s house, leading to the oh-so-soapy situation of being forced to stand up close to each other in an enclosed space.

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Unresolved sexual tension ensues … and then the kiss …

… and then the Timely Interruption.

Jen’s determination and forthrightness—”I think we should”—is delightful. So is the way the six foot plus Matt slowly slides down the wall in order to be on mouth level with Missy. Hee! My favorite part of these scenes, though, is in the conversation afterwards. Missy Reeves is absolutely wonderful at showing Jen’s escalating hurt and devastation at every word Jack says. Matt’s best moment is when Jack argues passionately that he is not the type of guy for her to take to a sorority dance or to her grandparents’ house. Unlike his frantic dissembling in the rest of the scene, right there Jack is being absolutely honest. The protectiveness that motivates him to keep her away from the key adventure, makes him want to save her from what he perceives as an even greater danger — himself.

Matt Ashford also does a wonderful longing look at Jen, after Jack has told her calmly, “I don’t want you,” and walked away. But I think Jack’s regret at what he’s doing comes out most clearly in the final scene, after they’ve found the key:

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Jen presses one more time to let her go with him to return the key, and Jack refuses. The way he breaks off as he starts to say that he and Isabella will handle it, shows he is losing his stomach for hurting her over and over. Poor Jen, facing this additional rejection, asks if he can’t even stand to be around her now. Jack repeats that they already talked about this (using that trick again), he’s the employer and she’s the employee, and—searching for something to soften the blow—someday she’s going to make a great journalist. I love Jen’s quiet bitterness as she says, “That’s great, that makes my day.” The final reaction shot shows Jen’s complete devastation at how things have turned out, and Jack’s longing and regret.

 

Tease

Ah, kidnapping—a go-to story for established couples, or to give an actress (it usually is an actress) some vacation time, as an excuse for an adventure and an umbrella story … the possibilities are endless.

There are challenges, of course. If the actress isn’t on leave, one challenge is keeping things interesting for the captive, whose role by necessity mostly involves sitting around. The writers can jazz it up a little bit with multiple escape attempts, but right now, because of Kayla’s pregnancy, the show is limited in that regard—she can’t be running around beating up the bad guys. She has mostly been stuck with her nurse, Grace, having the same conversation over and over.

I do appreciate the show trying to make things a little more interesting. Grace thought she was working for Kayla’s husband at first, and Victor even hired a Steve lookalike so when Grace described the man she was working for to Kayla, it would sound like Steve. Kayla figures out that this man is not Steve (she never sees him, but puts it together based on his actions), gradually convinces Grace of that fact, and wins her over to her side. This all gives Mary Beth Evans something semi-interesting to do and prevents Kayla from just being a passive captive.

We also see Kayla’s wavering faith. As her kidnapping stretches longer and longer, Kayla wavers between positive certainty that Steve will rescue her, and discouraged hopelessness that this will never end. (This isn’t a reflection on Steve, but just the general situation.) It’s a nice touch to see that Kayla, always so hopeful and optimistic, can have moments of doubt and despair.

During one of these low points, however, she gets a surprise:

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This is actually the continuation of the adventure that I introduced in in my last post, where Jack and Steve work together. On the pier, we get a little moment reinforcing that theme. Steve tells Jack not to screw up, hat he is counting on him, and Jack says, “It’s been a long time.” (This is a nice nod to history that Jack and Steve did, a long time back, actually work together.) Steve doesn’t say much—he’s very focused on Kayla—but his expression softens just a little, showing he is affected by this too.

Then we see Kayla pacing in her cabin on the boat. She lays down on the bed looking hopeless and teary-eyed. When Steve appears and opens up the door, she looks at him disbelievingly, like she has conjured him out of her fantasies. Her line, “Is it really you?” captures that uncertainty. (The way this is shot it could be a fantasy sequence—though who would fantasize about that wetsuit??—so we too are hoping against hope, right along with Kayla).

Then the kiss is so awesome. I love the angst and desperation. The crisis of the moment allows all their emotions to rise the surface, and Stephen and Mary Beth show that intensity so well. Even putting the whole kidnapping plot aside, this is a great payoff for us, since we haven’t seen them kiss since the Marina separation (except once at Christmas).

After this, of course, the rescue all goes wrong, and Steve ends up knocked over the head into the water, and Kayla is put on a helicopter speeding away from Salem. But, by giving us this little teaser, the show has reignited our interest and stoked our anticipation for the real reunion.

 

A Step Forward

Poor Jack. He’s been trying to help Steve for months and months, and all he gets in return is grief and suspicion:

This scene catches us up on all the reasons Steve has to be suspicious of Jack: that he thought Jack and Marina were working together, that he asked Jack to help him look for Isabella and then never heard from him about it again. He suspects that Jack is hiding her (which, in fact, he is, but it’s because he’s trying to protect her). Since Steve has never met Isabella, it makes sense that he assumes she is a lot like Marina. (I love when Jack says, in her defense, that “you of all people should know how different two siblings can be.”) All this very nicely sets up our sympathy for Jack, since he’s being wrongfully accused, without making us feel that Steve is being unfair.

Matt Ashford does something subtle in Jack’s scenes with Steve, that I really love. He plays Jack as always tense and defensive in the face of Steve’s hostility, which makes him talk faster and stumble over his words. He gives the impression that faced with Steve’s skepticism, he can’t quite believe he’s changed, either. This all adds up to making Jack sound shifty and insincere, which in turn makes it less likely that Steve will change his mind about him.

Here, Jack’s word-stumbling ends up making him say something really unfortunate, when Steve says emotionally that he can’t understand how Jack can let Kayla suffer for Isabella’s sake. Jack responds to that emotion by immediately protesting that he’d “never make Kayla suffer.” Whoops. That, of course, goes over like a lead balloon. Stephen Nichols’s reaction shot is perfect, as is Jack’s line, “It’s always going to be there, isn’t it?” Then Matt says the next line, “I’m trying to change,” so faintly, and it carries no conviction. This all conveys Jack’s near-hopelessness about ever changing Steve’s mind or being able to make up for what he’s done. (And, it makes it all the more impressive that he does indeed, keep trying.)

Steve does leave the door open a crack, when he says that if Jack wants to help, he knows what to do. This just twists the knife, though, making Jack’s situation all the more poignant. We’d love to see Jack able to take advantage of this opening, but he can’t because of his loyalty to Isabella.

But, a few episodes later, things take a turn. Roman shows Steve a picture of the Toscano family, including Isabella, hanging out with Victor. This seems to confirm Steve’s suspicions that Isabella is in cahoots with Victor, and that maybe Jack is too since he’s protecting her. Determined to get the full story, he calls Jack on the phone and tells him to come over.

I love the moment when Steve asks Jack why he would want to tell him the truth, and Jack blurts out that he’s family and he cares about him. I love Stephen’s look at that, the narrowed eyes and the twisting smile, like, “What’s your game?”

Then Isabella decides to make her appearance, because she wants to defend Jack from Steve’s conviction of his guilt. And it works, but not in the way she expects. The revelation that she has some kind of relationship with Victor (she won’t elaborate on exactly what it is) serves to increase Jack’s suspicions of her, which ironically puts him on the same position as Steve. This is beautifully shown when Jack asks Isabella why Victor would tell her where Kayla is—what is her relationship with him? She responds, “Does it matter?” Then Jack says he thinks it does, and Steve pipes in, “I think it does too.” Steve and Jack look at each other, each registering somewhere deep down the strangeness of being on the same side. It’s a wonderful moment.

There are a lot of great subtleties in these scenes, but nothing compares to the wonderful moment at the end. Isabella comes back with her clue that Kayla might be on a yacht disguised as a freighter. Steve gets ready to follow up, telling Jack to call Roman and get him over to serve as backup. But Roman isn’t home, and Jack sees his opportunity and says to let him help. As Jack is making his case, he asks Steve, “Why do you call me little brother?” I love this line, it’s a way for Jack to get at the underlying bond that he knows, or at least suspects, that Steve still feels. And Stephen does a great vulnerable look before Steve says “to get your goat” (showing that’s not the only reason). Jack doesn’t question that, but keeps pressing, pointing out that Roman isn’t available.

Steve gets a sour, skeptical look on his face as he thinks about all this. Then he grabs Jack by the tie with a semi-threatening look—like, I can’t believe I’m doing this and you better not screw it up—then slaps him on the chest, saying, “Let’s rock and roll, Billy Jack.” Wow! Jack scurries out after him, knowing he’s being given a priceless opportunity.

This is a fragile truce, born out of necessity, with no guarantees that it will last beyond the present crisis. But it’s a step.

I’ve said before that one of my favorite things about soaps is when they take a fantastical situation and follow through on it with dead-serious emotional realism. This is an example of an adjunct to that, when the crackpot soap plot itself creates emotional situations that otherwise would not happen. Steve’s trust in Jack, and Jack and Steve’s relationship, have been so damaged, that it’s only in the crucible of an elaborate crisis—involving kidnapping, keys to missing fortunes, mental institution escapees, and mysterious women from the past—that they could ever get the opportunity to reconnect. Extraordinary situations create extraordinary reactions. Hurray for crackpot plots.

 

I Dreamed a Dream

“These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air.”
—The Tempest

( Days and Shakespeare, why not?)

80’s Days used dreams and fantasy sequences all the time, for different purposes—to fake us out, to fill time, to whet our appetite for seeing a couple get together, as a relief when our couple was estranged, for added romance, and, most importantly, to show us what characters were feeling and thinking. My favorite version of this was when the dream or fantasy connected very explicitly to what was going on in the show at the time, usually an alternate version of reality. This allowed us to see what characters really wanted (compared to what they said they wanted) and who they cared for.

Over the last several episodes on my DVDs, the show has been highlighting Jen’s feelings for Jack and her reactions to him. She has broken up with Emilio, and is plainly jealous of Isabella. This shifts the power away from Jen and balances things out nicely—before Isabella’s appearance, Jen was in the inherently privileged position of the being in the middle of a triangle—and helps to create sympathy for her. It also helps to raise the stakes for the decision that Jen will soon have to make—is she willing to risk being hurt again and again if she decides to go after Jack?

In the following scene, Jen is scared that someone is following her, so she calls Jack for help. While she’s waiting for him to arrive, she has a fantasy about what will happen when he gets there. Then Jack actually shows up:

First, I find it very touching that Jen sees Jack as her hero in her fantasy. But, what I love most of all is the contrast between Jen’s fantasy and the reality. Jen keeps trying to follow the “script” and make her fantasy come true, but things go off kilter from the start. She throws her arms around Jack when he gets there, just like she did in her fantasy, but while he doesn’t push her away he keeps walking into the room, dragging her along with him. Then she thanks him for coming over, and he says “You know I would,” just like he did in the fantasy. But instead of sounding tender and reassuring, he sounds more like “Well duh.” (The difference is subtle and nicely played by Matt Ashford.)

So things aren’t exactly going the way Jen wanted them to. But, then he does say with some emotion that he wishes he’d never gotten her involved in this, and Jen responds to that by saying he doesn’t need to worry about her. But then he replies that he’s not worried about her, it’s just that she blew their whole cover. What a dash of cold water on Jen! But that moment wouldn’t have nearly the same impact if we hadn’t seen the fantasy beforehand. It neatly raises the emotional stakes so we feel for Jen much more keenly than we would have otherwise.

The scene above made me remember another, similar scenario from early Steve and Kayla, at a time when Kayla is trying to distance herself from Steve (after Britta comes back to town). She’s trying to see Steve like everyone else sees him, as a thug, plain and simple. Of course, it will never be that easy. Steve saves Kayla from a junkie who has broken into the Emergency Center—showing that other side of himself she’s trying to deny exists. He also helps her dress her wound afterward (leading to some very nice UST). Back at the loft, Kayla falls asleep and has a dream:

(This is a longer clip, but the dream starts at about 2:45.)

We can tell we’re in a Kayla fantasy because they get down to serious business so quickly on the couch. Steve’s dreams and fantasies were usually much more romantic—which nicely showed the inner romanticism of the character. With Kayla, her dreams and fantasies were a way to show that underneath that good girl exterior beat the heart of a passionate, sensual woman. It was a nice contrast that wasn’t unduly emphasized, just a part of the fabric of their story.

Kayla’s dream serves to remind us that she does indeed have feelings for Steve—in fact we’ve never seen it so explicitly. She’s been mostly freezing Steve out for weeks, ever since she saw Britta half naked in his apartment, so this is a good reminder for us.

Afterward, they use the same trick as they do for Jennifer in the first clip I posted. Steve shows up for real, and for a moment reality mirrors the fantasy, until the two widely diverge. Unlike Jennifer, Kayla is guarded at first (which fits with the distance Kayla is trying to create right now), but when she says “why are you here?” she softens her manner, seeming to invite the possibility of him following the script of her fantasy. When he says he was checking on her, she thanks him for worrying about her.

But, just like his brother Jack, this idea of being caught worrying about someone is just too much to admit. Steve retreats behind his familiar sleazy smile and denies it, then leers that a “sweet thing” like her needs protection. Kayla’s walls snap back into place. But without the earlier dream sequence, we wouldn’t see as clearly that her disgusted reaction is a form of self-protection.

All this provides extra motivation for Kayla to continue to distance herself from Steve. So, ironically, what could have been a step forward—Steve being a hero, Kayla dreaming about Steve—instead is a step backward. That sets up the next story arc, where Kayla (temporarily) believes Steve is guilty of Britta’s murder, very nicely.

But—though this may be getting into too many circles within circles—by highlighting Kayla’s continuing attraction to Steve, whether she wants to feel it or not, it also sets up the next step forward on down the line.

 

Supercouple Fatigue

In January of 1990, there was a headwriter change on Days. Anne Howard Bailey was fired, after being there for less than a year, and replaced with the team of Anne Schoettle and Richard J. Allen.

Bailey was fired due to a ratings decline, and executive producer Al Rabin had this to say about her when she left:

“[Bailey is] a wonderful writer before she got here. She was a wonderful writer here and she will be a wonderful writer in her next project. It’s just that the emphasis shifted slightly from romance to adventure. Since we preferred the audience that we had, we will be shifting back.”

Knowing future events, that in just a few short years the show drastically veers away from the supercouple formula, this quote is very interesting. It shows that Al Rabin was himself a true believer in the formula, not surprising considering he was an executive producer of Days throughout the 80’s. (He left in 1992, replaced by Tom “the era of the supercouple is over” Langan.)

But more crucially, I think Al Rabin, and whoever else made the decision for a headwriter change, was very aware of one drawback of the supercouple formula, perhaps the major drawback: without a constant supply of new couples, after awhile you run out of stories. (I’m not saying it is impossible to write dynamic stories for established couples, only that Days has never been able to do so.) This is what was happening to Days in 1989. And even though Days had been following the supercouple formula since roughly 1983, it really was the first time the show faced this problem. Because Roman “died” and then Marlena “died,” Pete and Melissa were permanently broken up, and Bo and Hope left town, there was never a significant bunch of established couples crowding out air time, and new couples could come along in their turn.

But in the fall of 1989, Steve and Kayla are broken up, Justin and Adrienne are broken up, and Shane and Kim are broken up. Steve and Kayla have the “back from the dead” spouse story plus a pregnancy story, Justin and Adrienne have the “scheming third party” story (with fertility problems thrown in), and Shane and Kim have the “presumed dead so the surviving spouse moves on” story. These stories have been decently well-executed, but they lack freshness and originality. It’s clear that none of these breakups is permanent, and eventually all the couples will reconcile—okay, then what? Start the whole dance over again? What’s left?

How about new couples? A new character had been brought on for Roman, Yvette, but it wasn’t clicking. Nick and Eve seemed to have run their course, Mike was gone (sob, Michael T. Weiss), and Nick and April weren’t catching on fire. The show hadn’t committed to either Jack or Emilio for Jennifer, and their stories were mostly going around in circles. The show needed fresh blood if the supercouple formula were to continue, or they needed to find a new formula.

The quote above shows clearly that from 1990-1992 they decided to stick with their formula, and toward that end they got rid of their headwriter, and directed the new headwriter to find some new couples, quickly. I’ve already discussed how in December 1989 and January 1990 there is a significant shift toward Jack and Jennifer. Isabella is brought on and eventually she and Roman/John have a successful love story. Bo and Hope come back and Hope just as quickly dies, so Bo is free to move on with Carly. (The whole “Cruise of Deception” story seems an attempt to recapture the magic of Stockholm with the new generation of couples.) Marlena returns in 1991 and is torn between Roman (and Supercouple) v.1 and v.2—which I have to admit, is pretty clever. Justin and Adrienne leave with a happy ending in 1991, Stephen Nichols leaves in 1990. And though poor Shane, Kayla, and Kim are then given the dreaded “Shayla” story, this era really does represent the last gasp of the supercouple concept.

I always wonder what Sheri Anderson and her team, the originators of the formula, would have done with the “established couples” problem. Would she have been better at writing for longer term couples? Maybe so. I actually think that she also might have been more ruthless about breaking couples up after the stories weren’t there anymore. She did it to Pete and Melissa, after all—and though in retrospect perhaps they were a second tier couple, at the time I didn’t perceive a difference between them and Bo and Hope. Ironically, Sheri Anderson did come back in June of 1992. But Al Rabin left in the same month, and his replacement Tom Langan and Ken Corday hired James E. Reilly in December of 1992. The era between June and December of 1992 would probably be very interesting to watch, to see what Sheri Anderson’s writing was like without Al Rabin and the rest of team she had behind her in 1983-86—but my DVDs don’t go that far, so I won’t be able to find out.

Before leaving in April of ‘93, Sheri Anderson actually worked as co-headwriter with Reilly—a fact that always makes my head explode.

 

Christmas 1989

I am off on a road trip tomorrow, so this will be a quick post. Gotta love the holidays on Days:

(Sorry about the picture quality.)

I gotta say, the Santa sighting, plus the magical transformation of the lighthouse, exceeds the acceptable level of cheese for me. But then they distract me nicely with that honest-to-God, first-time-in-forever Steve and Kayla kiss. Whoo-hoo!