Soap dish
Black + White photography magazine, issue 00, 1992-1993
by Horacio Silva

Simon Denny is Australia's hunk du jour. Yet, unlike his Soapie antecedents, from Peter Lochrie to Craig MacLachlan, Denny is known by parents and teenagers alike. The difference being that, to girls aged under 16, the ephebic Denny is the BIGGEST spunk in the world, but to their parents, he is simply the cause for the increase in the family phone bill.

You see, Denny is the king of the often criticized 'phone lines', on which you can vote in competitions like "Prince of Soap", "Battle of the Hunks", and "Is Simon Denny or Jason Priestley the most happening man on the planet?". At 23, he pushes the collective button of Australia's screamers like no-one has since, well, Jason Donovan. His character on E-Street, Const. Sam Farrell, is a walking recruit ad for the police force, and is responsible for creating a teenage fetish for hand-cuffs and the strong arm of the law.

And the fans can't find out enough about Denny. What colour is his doona? How old was he when his tonsils were removed? Does he do his own laundry? And if this information and the sound of your idol's voice is as simple as a touch of a button, then what's a fan to do?

 

"TV stars have always been the subject of competitions—it's only the marketing that's changed. I don't have a problem with the phone lines. It's just that some of them are so boring. I called up a gossip-line they have on me, to see if they could tell me something I don't know, and it was so dull. I'd be really pissed off if I was a kid calling it up."

Denny radiates the good health and adolescent glamour that gets not only young fans but publicists and marketing brains excited. Everything from lunchboxes to Frisbees have been suggested as viable marketing options. However, Denny's obliging nature sometimes works to his detriment, as was the case recently, when he agreed to do a publicity photo for a leading weekly, only to turn on the TV and find the picture being used to advertise a competition to win a date with him.

"I wasn't too impressed at the time, but I completely forgot about it until the limousine came to pick me up for my dream-date, who turned out to be an 11-year-old nerd from hell who'd already worked out what area of accountancy he was going to specialize in. It was a classic."

 

However, there is no hint of irony in his voice when he says that without these people he wouldn't be able to live his "ultimate teenage fantasy" on Sydney's northern beaches. "It seems a small price to pay."