Ah, the alternate universe of Salem. Acting and production values that might pass muster in a high school play. The same set of plastic greenery representing a beach, a city park, a desert island, or a street in Italy. Demonic possession is rampant in Salem of late, with Satan infecting various citizens. It's good thing certain characters can masquerade so effectively as gun-toting nuns or priests. Wiki data lists character occupations as "femme fatale/business executive/waitress" and "race car driver/politician/business executive" for billion dollar corporations. Where are the thousands of toiling wage slaves making Basic Black haute couture and Countess Wilhelmina cosmetics the global brands they are? Do they get to enjoy those nonstop flights to Italy or South Africa from the Salem International Airport? Why are there never labor unrest issues troubling these "executives?" Every few weeks the unbearable character of Susan Banks appears, babbling incoherently in prop buck teeth (played with relish by the same actress who plays Kristin DiMera in one of the most annoying performances ever preserved on film.) Residents of Salem can also avail themselves of magic rubber masks that not only change facial appearance but incredibly replicate someone else's height, weight, voice tone, past memories, and fashion sense. And don't forget the human-sized talking teddy bear; dirty mob dealings by the docks; people perishing in building collapses or car crashes who return from the dead; and not one but TWO Salem residents who have identical twins in prison. There's poor Sarah Horton who constantly bursts into tears over her shaky love life while ignoring her complex duties as premier brain surgeon. A world famous opera diva who never treats us to a tune. And a young man (who spent perhaps a week in medical school) saving patients because the head of the hospital is undercover as a crime fighting nun. As one Salem police officer memorably put it "I love fighting crime, but I need to take a shower first."
Review of Days of Our Lives
