he Secret Service is filmed in Gerry and Sylvia Anderson's fondly remembered "SuperMarionation" technique, which utilized very detailed one-third-scale marionettes and miniatures in lieu of full-sized actors and sets. Elderly parish priest Father Stanley Unwin (voice of Unwin) seems to live a sedate existence in his country vicarage, his needs tended to by his gardener, Matthew Harding (Files), and his housekeeper and cook, Mrs. Appleby (Sylvia Anderson). But Father Unwin is a man of more than one calling; not only is he a priest, he is a special operative for the government, answering to the B.I.S.H.O.P. (that is, British Intelligence Secret Headquarters Operation Priest).
And no mere '60s-flavored "Austin Pious" is he; Father Unwin has in his possession a "minimizer" device that allows him to shrink Matthew, who's also an operative, to one-third his normal size (coincidentally, the size of a SuperMarionation puppet). Father Unwin, with Matthew lugged about in a specially outfitted suitcase, inconspicuously zips about the countryside in a bright yellow Model T Ford named "Gabriel," thwarting bad guys, thieves, spies, saboteurs and enemies of democracy with
a minimum of fuss.
Individual episodes concerned SF-flavored gadgetry like hijacked computerized amphibious tanks, top-secret mini-computers, high-tech desalinization plants, super spy satellites and ultra-sonic rifle weapons, among others. Peppered throughout are a few of the Andersons' trademark futuristic vehicles: heli-jets, experimental attack planes and a stealth sub are a few standouts. The day is usually saved by the smuggling of the miniaturized Matthew into highly sensitive and closely watched installations by the fully frocked and collared Father Unwin. Poor Mrs. Appleby, apparently without proper security clearance, is usually left to tsk! uncomprehendingly at the strange goings-on at the vicarage.
Unwin stars in an unwinnable show
The Secret Service is a curiosity among all SuperMarionation productions (a curious bunch as a whole, for those not used to the Andersons' addictive blend of puppetry, SF hardware and brilliant miniature work). It's set in a recognizable 1960s, yet has unbelievably advanced technology. While all SuperMarionation shows had insert shots of the hands of live actors, The Secret Service uses full-sized actors in long shots and insert shots, thereby jarring the reality of small-scale sets and puppet "actors." Real-life comic Stanley Unwin voices a puppet character who looks just like him with the same name and who utilizes the same "gag" for which Unwin was famous: speaking in an intelligible form of gobbledygook called "Unwinese."
While the Andersons' shows like Thunderbirds and Captain Scarlet had a '60s swingers' aesthetic, The Secret Service has a flavor that can only be called "cozy." The disparate elements of the show never come together. The "current" '60s setting
doesn't allow for the full-throttle skiffy "Gosh, wow!" of seeing Thunderbird vehicles roar across the sky. Unwin's doubletalk is regularly included with great contrivance. Several of Matthew's missions could be better executed by a full-sized agent. Coziness doesn't lend itself to a sense of danger. The show is just dull.
But in an odd way, the crushing dullness of the show throws the craftsmanship of SuperMarionation shows into higher relief. The slow pace allows the viewer to marvel at the work that went into the construction of each one-third-scale set and costume. The puppets are masterworks, complete with age wrinkles, thinning hair, freckles, five o'clock shadows, double chins and sweaty upper lips. In this age of BoTox and plastic surgery, these puppets look more "real" than many Hollywood A-List actors. As a curiosity, The Secret Service is worth a look, but should be purchased only by Anderson completists.
