For those readers wanting to relive the experience of watching Crossroads during those long-ago teatimes (can there be any others?) this box set is undoubtedly the way to go: 41 discs with 8 episodes on each, comprising Volumes 1-20 of the previously issued Crossroads Archive DVD series plus the extra disc (Vol 1.1) of tapes discovered afterwards. Absolutely no extras, other than the packaging, if you already have the Archive DVDs, but if you don't this is a far cheaper way to acquire the programmes - and that one little box will take up rather less space on your shelves.
True, cheaper compilations of cherrypicked episodes (now available in an eight-disc set as The Crossroads Collection) have been issued, but soaps depend on the cumulative effect of watching episodes in sequence, and having already watched discs 1 to 16 in this 45th anniversary set, I can confirm that it's far more satisfying to see the storylines gradually building and to relive again that eagerness to see how a cliffhanging ending will turn out. Those with greater self-control may even wish to leave twenty four hours between the viewing of individual episodes for the full seventies teatime effect - but be warned the programmes are decidedly moreish: performing onstage may be, as Ken Dodd says, like having all your birthdays at once, but viewing the shows on this box in rapid succession is, if you're of my vintage, like fastforwarding through your adolescence.
True, there are sizeable gaps in the availability of extant tapes which curtail that dizzying pleasure - sometimes you leap over years or, by the mid-seventies, more usually months - but there are also large slabs of episodes in sequence. And the absence of some episodes can even have, as an accidental byproduct, a sort of accelerated effect on the drama: we suddenly jump from Jill's seduction by brother-in-law Anthony Mortimer (very Pre-Raphaelite Wronged Woman body language immediately afterwards) to her pregnancy several months on, for example.
On the down side, although we see a fair amount of dodgy-but-loveable barman Bill Warren (David Valla), a kind of ineffectual Bilko, and wonderfully daffy waitress Avis Tennyson ("no relation" - played by Helen Durward) the caddish Bill's wooing of Avis (and the longrunning saga of the "Avis-is-marrying-Bill" fund) has not survived. And one particularly touching moment I remember from its original transmission has gone: Stan's (Edward Clayton) response to the death of his dad Wilf (Morris Parsons) seemed to be imbued with a sense of the actor mourning a colleague.
But so much has survived on these discs which is hugely enjoyable and moving. When Noele Gordon clearly gets it into her head that a big emotional scene is coming up that can embarassing viewing; on the other hand, I have just witnessed a perfectly judged scene between Jim Baines (John Forgeham) and Sharon Metcalf (Carolyn Jones) where he first explodes at her for interfering in his business (his wife's agrophobia) and then softens when she blurts out "You are my business!"
And in the storyline about Vera (Zeph Gladstone) becoming acqainted with the son she gave away there is a really touching scene where the woman who adopted him forms an unlikely alliance with Vera as they realise they are both losing him to the twin attractions of university and a new girlfriend. Elsewhere, there is a great little scene with Morris Parsons and Jack Woolgar (Carney) striking sparks off each other, and I'd forgotten what an effective, if idiosyncratic, actor Roger Tonge was; he and Jack Woolgar are often used as sounding boards for the problems of other characters. And in fairness to Noele Gordon, she is very good at the longsuffering comic foil bit, a la Barbara Knox in Corrie, reacting to the stupidities of those around her, as in is a far-fetched but delightfully farcical storyline of a man hiding out for several days in her bedroom, trying both to avoid the attentions of detective Don Bullman and to weasel his way into her affections: "Don't call me 'Mrs M!'"
There is much more to be said but really, you need to explore for yourself. All I can say is that these do not appear to be programmes made with contempt for their audience, nor actors who appear to be slumming it; Jack Barton said that the team strove their utmost to bring "happiness and entertainment" to the audience; and as Claire Falconbridge once said in a documentary (I'm paraphrasing from memory), instead of criticising the acting it would be more appropriate to praise the actors for achieving results with such a punishing schedule. And that palpable warmth which emanated from so many of the performers could not, surely, be faked: a recent obituary of Elizabeth Croft (Miss Tatum) mentioned that Peter Brookes (Vince Parker) kept in touch with her for decades after he left the programme: "It was perhaps this quality at the heart of Crossroads that explained its popularity with viewers."