Three decades later, the BBC's Channel 4 presented Queer As Folk with a passel of quite screwed up characters on display, and the first series packs quite an emotional punch because of it. There may be happy homosexuals in England, but there are none in this show -- and yet, unlike Boys in the Band, there's ultimately hope for this collection of queer boys, fag hags and lesbians (and very few straight men) living their lives in the dreary confines of Manchester. By the end of the eighth episode, after all the emotional turmoil is said and done, we're left with the distinct impression that our leading trio is going to turn it around and find true happiness. Maybe.

By the way, in case you're wondering, that title is both a cleaned-up play on the expression "queer as fuck" and a reference to an old Yorkshire saying, "there's nowt so queer as folk," meaning basically that people are strange.

We first meet that trio on Canal Street, the club row of Manchester -- Stuart Jones (Aiden Gillen, Circle of Friends), Vince Tyler (Craig Kelly, Titanic) and Nathan Maloney (Charlie Hunnam, My Wonderful Life). Stuart is a shallow sex machine whose motto might be, "I never met a man I didn't shag." Or, more correctly, "I never met a man I shagged twice." He and childhood best friend Vince hop in and out of the clubs, Stuart always getting lucky, Vince always getting nothing. Then, one night, Stuart takes home Nathan, a blond schoolboy giddy on his first night out, in both senses of the word. But, as Vince describes it, Nathan becomes the one-night stand who never left, and his meeting Stuart is the incident that propels the events over the entire rest of the series.

And what events they are. In some ways, Stuart is an emotional bulldozer immune to his own feelings and aloof to the damage he causes. Vince is also cut off from his emotions, but only because he never expects to find true love and has given up trying. Nathan is nothing but emotion, a fireball who acts before he thinks, the results sometimes good, sometimes disastrous but always interesting. "Interesting" best describes the whole series -- we never quite know what's going to happen next, but can't wait to find out.

The leads were born to play their roles. Gillen has a certain detached, dyspeptic air about him, a man interested only in conquest, not in the spoils, and whose favorite expression of endearment is, "Fuck off!" Kelley hits all the right notes as the put-upon friend who may complain a little but always gives in. But the real star of the series is Hunnam, in his first major role, playing the fifteen year-old newborn queer activist schoolboy who falls in love with Stuart and won't let go. The changes his character goes through are enormous, and watching Hunnam's transformation is an acting revelation. He puts so much into his performance that just watching him swagger down the halls of his school in a morning after glow says volumes without a word spoken. This role made him quite a star in England, and you will be seeing him again.

The supporting cast is superb as well. Standouts are Denise Black (Britain's long-running Coronation Street), who plays Vince's quite accepting, club-hopping mother, Hazel; first-timer Carla Henry, as Nathan's schoolgirl best-bud Donna; Antony Cotton (Immortality) as screaming queen Alexander, who makes one of the best entrances in the series; Caroline O'Neill (Coronation Street) as Nathan's truly loving mother, Janice; and Alison Burrows as Sandra, Stuart's suave under pressure assistant.

Also notable is the music. The original theme by Murray Gold is one of the best TV tunes ever written, in my humble opinion, and variations of it weave throughout the show. On top of that, current pop music is used to good effect, along with a handful of those old gay standards. Yes, they do use "It's Raining Men." How could they not? It would be like doing a baseball movie with no home runs. The direction is crisp and remarkably cinematic for TV. The first half of the series was directed by Charles McDougal, the second by Sarah Harding, but the overall feeling is still consistent, even as the latter episodes veer into emotionally dodgy territory before taking their final turn.

But, of course, none of this would matter without an excellent script, and all eight episodes of the first series were written by one man, Russell T. Davies, whose sense of character is right on the nose. He's one of those writers who knows when to leave things unsaid and let the silence speak for itself, yet still manages to toss off blisteringly funny comments left and right. If you're gay, you'll be laughing out loud every five minutes as another truth is spoken. If you're not, you'll probably still be laughing -- because it's probably true for you, too. Only the genders have been changed.

Incidentally, you may have noticed a few paragraphs back that Nathan is fifteen, while Stuart is pushing thirty. And yes, they do shag, graphically. (Thank heaven for DVD freeze frame). However, you have to remember that the age of consent in England is sixteen, and attitudes about that sort of thing are different there. But those are the kind of choices the series makes, the kinds of risks it takes, and the dramatic impact is worth it. This isn't some sugar-coated happy gay fantasy land, a là Jeffrey, where death by AIDS was a fabulous exit in full-on Cats costume with parting bon mot. People in Queer As Folk act like real people. As a consequence, we get some very powerful moments. Stand-out scenes abound. When the mother of a just-deceased friend of Stuart corners him at the funeral, demanding to know if he would have OD'd if his one-night stand had been a woman, Stuart can't answer. We're spared any moralizing speeches, and just left with the question. One of the most heart-wrenching moments of missed opportunity happens when Nathan's mum is driving him home from school and casually mentions that she knows he's gay and it's fine with her. His reaction isn't what you'd expect, but it's true to life, and it creates a rift that runs right down the middle of the rest of the episodes. And one of the best lines comes from Donna, when Nathan tells her, "You're straight, you don't know anything." Her response? "I'm black. And I'm a girl. You try that for a week."

You should definitely try the original UK version of Queer As Folk, though, regardless of your gender, race or orientation. Some of the cultural references from across the pond may elude you, and it may take an episode to get used to the accents, but the themes, characters and struggles are universal and nothing is watered down to make it palatable. This is life as it is lived, heightened for drama. In a lot of ways, Queer As Folk is a Boys in the Band for a new generation, but it makes Friedkin's tired old queens look absolutely staid by comparison. If you're a fan of the Showtime version, do yourself a favor and watch the original. If you've never seen either, this is the place to start, in the fabulous neverland of Canal Street, Manchester, England, UK.

Jon Bastian, is a playwright, a screenwriter, and a native of Los Angeles.

Got a problem? Email Jon at filmmonthly@hotmail.com