t begins more or less the same. A spy's resignation. An abduction. A strange reality from which, it is adamantly proclaimed, there is no escape until the truth is revealed. To underline this fact, it always--no variation here--ends the same, with the thudding clink of prison bars. What takes place in between, however, defines not just the span of an hour-long commercial television episode, but the quixotic quest of asserting one's individuality amid the multifaceted and often contradictory forces that shape the gray conformity of the modern human condition. While escape may ultimately prove an unrealized goal, the very effort of trying constitutes effective insurgency.
These new boxed sets of The Prisoner contain episodes 8 through 14 of 17 first broadcast in Britain in 1967. Set 3 contains "The Schizoid Man," "Many Happy Returns," "It's Your Funeral" plus a bonus interview, while Set 4 collects "A Change of Mind," "Hammer into Anvil," "Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling" and "Living in Harmony." The sequencing does not match the order of their original broadcast, which in turn does not match the order in which they were filmed, but the liner notes provide an interesting rationale for the placement of each episode.
While episode ordering is a concern primarily of aficionados, of interest to fans and neophytes alike is the interview with original production manager Bernie Williams in Set 3 that discusses various "behind-the-scenes" tidbits. Williams also comments on what it was like to work with series creator and star Patrick McGoohan, who shares many of the enigmatic characteristics of his on-screen persona.
Escape is never an option
While the Prisoner can never physically escape (if only because that would end the series), programs such as "The Schizoid Man," an allegory about the difficulty of maintaining personal identity, hinge on the considerable mental resistance required to resist a deranged status quo. Such resistance serves to undermine and frustrate authority, personified by the character of Number 2, portrayed by a revolving cast to illustrate, as the Who used to sing, how the new boss is the same as the old boss.
"Many Happy Returns" offers an illusion of escape when the Prisoner wakes up one morning to find the Village completely deserted. This episode is notable for the lack of dialogue for the first 20 minutes or so, a dramatic device most commercial programs wouldn't attempt--even less so today than then.
"It's Your Funeral" considers how defiance against authority can be bent to another form of oppressiveness. It also introduces Kosho, a trampoline martial arts contest dreamed up by McGoohan, but which probably has no significance beyond providing an action sequence.
In "A Change of Mind," the Prisoner's personal triumph over brainwashing is counterbalanced by the unthinking conformity of the mob mentality. "Hammer into Anvil" is perhaps the most optimistic about how an individual can overcome oppression. "Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling" comes off as a little more conventional in comparison. One reason may be that the plot, in which the Prisoner literally switches identity through a mind-body transfer, was more a matter of convenience than of artistic inspiration--it was a way to get an episode in the can while McGoohan was away filming the movie Ice Station Zebra. It is also one of the few episodes that breaks off a bit from the traditional opening preamble that recounts how the Prisoner arrives in the Village.
As does "Living in Harmony," which recasts the setting into a Western in which the Prisoner is a sheriff turning in his badge and the Village becomes the frontier town of Harmony. This episode was not aired by CBS in either 1968 or 1969. One theory has it that the plot device of the ex-sheriff refusing to wear a gun was an oblique commentary on the then-raging Vietnam War and thus too controversial. This seems a bit of a stretch, however, even in those more censorial times. More likely is that several scenes were deemed too violent, which just goes to show how far broadcast standards have changed.