Patrick McGoohan's idea for a television series, The Prisoner, is still a source of fascination and admiration. This kind of guerrilla TV cannot be done now under the protective, moneyed auspices of men like Lew Grade (extinct species) who funded and promoted the series. The Prisoner lasted 5 months with 17 episodes, then it vanished for ever. I think this was for the best.
It would be pointless and unkind to analyze each episode as to what I think they mean or who is running The Village and who is spying on who. It is more fun to watch events unfold in the haphazard way The Prisoner has. There is no story arc, per se, but there is an evolution in the behavior and tactics of No. 6 (McGoohan) that glues the series together.
I hadn't seen The Prisoner in probably 40 years, since it first aired in the USA. I liked it then but somehow lost interest. The lava lamps didn't help. The era of the swinging, mod sixties is preserved like an old cameo in this show. The primary colors, the 'flip' hairdos, the tight crotchy pants and pointed breasts behind stripes on everyone's ubiquitous matelot tops, all shod in Keds tennies and Espadrilles (actually, I wish Espadrilles would come back, very comfortable); all contribute to the charm and fascination. Having just re-watched the series after all that time makes me sorry that I ignored it for so long.
There are admittedly some cheesy elements to the props and acting but those little goofs add to the vintage charm of the show. Rover, the 'scary' guardian of the Village, is similar to Gort the metallic cosmic policeman in The Day the Earth Stood Still. He's always there, attached to some sort of Great Lava Lamp under the water from whence he sallies forth to nab anyone attempting to leave The Village. Rover is nothing more than a weather balloon inflated with helium which makes it bounce and wobble like the flowing shapes in a lava lamp (again, the lava lamp). Depending on one's transgression Rover will either absorb you (pressing face against surface of balloon and viewed from the other side) or hauled off or chased back to No. 2's door for punishment.
The howler with Rover is that every time someone is absorbed it is the same face, some one from the tech crew who volunteered for the job of face-absorption when testing Rover's scare factor on screen. The factor is very low. Rover is also center stage for some very bad editing in an early episode. Nadia, an Estonian spy who has also retired and landed in The Village (so she says), is supposed to have escaped by trying to swim 30 miles, but Rover hauls her back to the beach. In the process the actress who is supposed to be playing a bronze-medalist in swimming from years ago, is seen flailing and paddling and lifting her head for air when she is supposed to be unconscious.
Fortunately these technical glitches are few and far between and become a thing of the past by the 5th or 6th episode.
Patrick McGoohan himself carries the show with ease. He was a good-looking man and a fine actor, though he hams it up from time to time with too much vehemence. There were times when I expected him to twirl his mustache (in a manner of speaking), his acting having taken a sudden Simon Legree aspect to it. There is a very camp over-the-top atmosphere about the entire thing.
No. 2 is the second most important repeating character. The actors change all the time, which makes things interesting and was a brilliant solution for preventing rote acting on the part of the leads. There are a number of famous faces playing No.2 who you will recognize from older English films and television from the 50s to the 90s. Leo McKern (Rumpole) and the very unusual looking Mary Morris being among them.
The Prisoner was McGoohan's brainchild and he was in full control of every aspect of its production. The Prisoner was a powerful influence on other screenwriters, like Douglas Adams with his Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Terry Jones and Monty Python's Flying Circus, and later, Terry Gilliam with his films Brazil and Twelve Monkeys. For his part, McGoohan was clearly influenced by the pop goofiness of A Hard Day's Night and Rod Serling's disorienting and disturbing Twilight Zone.
interview with the producer Bernard Williams. He doesn't give away McGoohan's secret intentions but he speaks candidly about the creation of the show.
With the A&E complete DVD (2004)collection there is included the original version of the episode The Chimes of Westminster. A&E has not troubled itself to make this listen-able so don't waste your time. The sound is totally inaudible, though I liked the primitive grainy film. Perhaps The Prisoner might have been even more effective in black and white. And A&E has scrambled up the playing order of the earlier episodes in a manner far removed from the original broadcast order.
I made a list of the correct order and follow that when watching, though it's inconvenient to have to be switching around from one disc to another all the time. But A&E have been pretty chintzy, using 10 dvds for 17 episodes and two Features. Don't expect a solution to the series when it ends. There is one, sort of, but IS there. The sound and picture, however, for the rest of the episodes have been cleaned up and is very good for its age.
It would be pointless and unkind to analyze each episode as to what I think they mean or who is running The Village and who is spying on who. It is more fun to watch events unfold in the haphazard way The Prisoner has. There is no story arc, per se, but there is an evolution in the behavior and tactics of No. 6 (McGoohan) that glues the series together.
I hadn't seen The Prisoner in probably 40 years, since it first aired in the USA. I liked it then but somehow lost interest. The lava lamps didn't help. The era of the swinging, mod sixties is preserved like an old cameo in this show. The primary colors, the 'flip' hairdos, the tight crotchy pants and pointed breasts behind stripes on everyone's ubiquitous matelot tops, all shod in Keds tennies and Espadrilles (actually, I wish Espadrilles would come back, very comfortable); all contribute to the charm and fascination. Having just re-watched the series after all that time makes me sorry that I ignored it for so long.
There are admittedly some cheesy elements to the props and acting but those little goofs add to the vintage charm of the show. Rover, the 'scary' guardian of the Village, is similar to Gort the metallic cosmic policeman in The Day the Earth Stood Still. He's always there, attached to some sort of Great Lava Lamp under the water from whence he sallies forth to nab anyone attempting to leave The Village. Rover is nothing more than a weather balloon inflated with helium which makes it bounce and wobble like the flowing shapes in a lava lamp (again, the lava lamp). Depending on one's transgression Rover will either absorb you (pressing face against surface of balloon and viewed from the other side) or hauled off or chased back to No. 2's door for punishment.
The howler with Rover is that every time someone is absorbed it is the same face, some one from the tech crew who volunteered for the job of face-absorption when testing Rover's scare factor on screen. The factor is very low. Rover is also center stage for some very bad editing in an early episode. Nadia, an Estonian spy who has also retired and landed in The Village (so she says), is supposed to have escaped by trying to swim 30 miles, but Rover hauls her back to the beach. In the process the actress who is supposed to be playing a bronze-medalist in swimming from years ago, is seen flailing and paddling and lifting her head for air when she is supposed to be unconscious.
Fortunately these technical glitches are few and far between and become a thing of the past by the 5th or 6th episode.
Patrick McGoohan himself carries the show with ease. He was a good-looking man and a fine actor, though he hams it up from time to time with too much vehemence. There were times when I expected him to twirl his mustache (in a manner of speaking), his acting having taken a sudden Simon Legree aspect to it. There is a very camp over-the-top atmosphere about the entire thing.
No. 2 is the second most important repeating character. The actors change all the time, which makes things interesting and was a brilliant solution for preventing rote acting on the part of the leads. There are a number of famous faces playing No.2 who you will recognize from older English films and television from the 50s to the 90s. Leo McKern (Rumpole) and the very unusual looking Mary Morris being among them.
The Prisoner was McGoohan's brainchild and he was in full control of every aspect of its production. The Prisoner was a powerful influence on other screenwriters, like Douglas Adams with his Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Terry Jones and Monty Python's Flying Circus, and later, Terry Gilliam with his films Brazil and Twelve Monkeys. For his part, McGoohan was clearly influenced by the pop goofiness of A Hard Day's Night and Rod Serling's disorienting and disturbing Twilight Zone.
interview with the producer Bernard Williams. He doesn't give away McGoohan's secret intentions but he speaks candidly about the creation of the show.
With the A&E complete DVD (2004)collection there is included the original version of the episode The Chimes of Westminster. A&E has not troubled itself to make this listen-able so don't waste your time. The sound is totally inaudible, though I liked the primitive grainy film. Perhaps The Prisoner might have been even more effective in black and white. And A&E has scrambled up the playing order of the earlier episodes in a manner far removed from the original broadcast order.
I made a list of the correct order and follow that when watching, though it's inconvenient to have to be switching around from one disc to another all the time. But A&E have been pretty chintzy, using 10 dvds for 17 episodes and two Features. Don't expect a solution to the series when it ends. There is one, sort of, but IS there. The sound and picture, however, for the rest of the episodes have been cleaned up and is very good for its age.