Ah, Gilligan's island. What is it that draws us to it? Maybe one day geneticists will discover the mysterious strand of DNA that makes Americans, like me, watch this program.
The set-up is told to us at the beginning of each half-hour (in song). The S.S. Minnow is lost at sea during a terrible storm. Aboard are the skipper (Jonas Grumby), his first mate (Gilligan), the billionaire Thurston Howell III, his wife Lovey, movie star Ginger Grant, professor Roy Hinckley, and country girl Mary Ann Summers. A microcosm of American society, producer Sherwood Schwartz would tell us. Marooned on an "uncharted desert isle," they are constantly searching for a way back to civilization.
During their tenure on the island, the seven stranded castaways encounter volcanoes, typhoons, Pacific island cannibals, Japanese submarine pilots, errant space satellites, seeds that allow you to read others' minds, Tarzan-like jungle boys, Russian astronauts, and, of course, the requisite gorilla. Anything they come across, however, is usually just a plot device to introduce a potential way off the island, which Gilligan inevitably spoils through his dim-wittedness.
The series was amazingly inane, but has become wildly popular in reruns. Though primarily aimed at kids with no ability to handle even the slightest bit of complexity, this show has nevertheless developed a following even among the thinking.
Maybe it is the charisma of Thurston Howell III or our concern for the flighty Lovey Howell. Maybe it is our yearnings for Mary Ann or Ginger or our curiosity about what was under the Professor's calm exterior. Perhaps it is or our love for the skipper's teddy-bear-like qualities. Or perhaps we just want to see how Gilligan will screw up again. For some reason, millions tune in to "Gilligan's Island" day after day, and they probably always will.
The set-up is told to us at the beginning of each half-hour (in song). The S.S. Minnow is lost at sea during a terrible storm. Aboard are the skipper (Jonas Grumby), his first mate (Gilligan), the billionaire Thurston Howell III, his wife Lovey, movie star Ginger Grant, professor Roy Hinckley, and country girl Mary Ann Summers. A microcosm of American society, producer Sherwood Schwartz would tell us. Marooned on an "uncharted desert isle," they are constantly searching for a way back to civilization.
During their tenure on the island, the seven stranded castaways encounter volcanoes, typhoons, Pacific island cannibals, Japanese submarine pilots, errant space satellites, seeds that allow you to read others' minds, Tarzan-like jungle boys, Russian astronauts, and, of course, the requisite gorilla. Anything they come across, however, is usually just a plot device to introduce a potential way off the island, which Gilligan inevitably spoils through his dim-wittedness.
The series was amazingly inane, but has become wildly popular in reruns. Though primarily aimed at kids with no ability to handle even the slightest bit of complexity, this show has nevertheless developed a following even among the thinking.
Maybe it is the charisma of Thurston Howell III or our concern for the flighty Lovey Howell. Maybe it is our yearnings for Mary Ann or Ginger or our curiosity about what was under the Professor's calm exterior. Perhaps it is or our love for the skipper's teddy-bear-like qualities. Or perhaps we just want to see how Gilligan will screw up again. For some reason, millions tune in to "Gilligan's Island" day after day, and they probably always will.