“Welcome to Harmony, stranger...”
Argh. I want to like this episode, I really do. It tries to do something brave and left field, and I'm glad they went through with it, but the novelty wears off halfway through.
They do it properly, though. No usual titles and immediate immersion in the American West, at least as far as that’s possible with locations that are very obviously in Blighty. The American accents are ok and, in many cases, genuine, and we can forgive Patrick McGoohan- and, indeed, any slip in verisimilitude as the whole thing is a simulation. At first the novelty is riveting as the same story is played out but in a different context- our hero resigns as sheriff for unknown reasons, finds himself in a new town that he can never leave, and finds the place to be ruled by a powerful figure with a propensity for dirty tricks and show trials.
Thing is, the novelty wears off halfway through and the plot- fairly standard Western stuff but slow paced, begins to look rather dull. And the resolution- Number Six is still in the Village and this is just an induced shared hallucination- is predictable.
There are positives other than the concept itself- the Kid is creepy in a very #MeToo sort of way, and gives a sense of surrealism with those pink clothes and that top hat. But I’m afraid I see this episode as a brave experiment that doesn’t quite come off.
Showing posts with label David Tomblin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Tomblin. Show all posts
Thursday, 25 July 2019
Wednesday, 5 June 2019
The Prisoner: Arrival
"We're all pawns, my dear. Your move."
This blog started out with Doctor Who and then Blake's 7; I think it's time I took a look at another example of British "telefantasy", to use a word utilised only by those of us who are fans of it. I've seen the odd episode of The Prisoner before, but that was in another century. I recall pretty much nothing, and I've only seen three or four. So this is all but a fresh viewing, my only preconceptions coming from the programme's reputation and the eponymous song by Iron Maiden.
So what have we here? The bare bones of a backstory- Patrick McGoohan's unnamed character (let's disregard Danger Man, partly because I haven't seen it and partly to avoid dull, reductive attempts to find a literal explanation) used to drive a flash car and work at a posh building in iconic Sixties London but has resigned on a matter of principle (I love the way we see, but don't hear, this happening), only to be returned home to be gassed unconscious... and wakes up in the Village, where we will be spending a lot of time.
Portmeiron is, of course, extraordinary-looking, striking, distinctive, all those things, as well as giving a very Welsh coast feeling of isolation. But what strikes me about the Village as a setting is the stultifying conformity, which is almost as bad as the ubiquitous Orwellian slogans discouraging curiosity. This is a tiny place where everybody knows everybody, with a few permitted pastimes in which one is not just permitted but expected to participate. This smells a little of forced jollity, even of Butlins, and there is nothing more totalitarian than that.
There’s a lot of surface charm in the Village, but it’s a place where a woman desperate to escape is persuaded to work as a “maid” (sexual services are implied) on empty promises of release. It’s also deeply surreal, as though the powers that be control reality itself- the big white balloon of death is scarily effective, and all the more so for being utterly surreal, but even more chilling is the fact everyone stands absolutely still while the balloon follows and kills a man for an unspecified crime. This is achieved by freezing the screen, giving the impression that the laws of physics themselves are under control.
We end the episode with the first of what I’m sure is many failed escape attempts, following a great deal of manipulation involving a fake suicide. Can Number Six (please let us never know his real name) trust anyone?
Even more sinister, it’s heavily implied that Number Six, who has knowledge very much desired by the powers that be, is being treated with kid gloves for the moment. What happens when the gloves come off?
Brilliant, philosophical drama that avoids reducing things to the literal and is delightfully weird. Nice cast, too- we see a young Paul Eddington and an especially young George Baker, whom I’ve just seen in I, Clavdivs. But at the centre of it all is McGoohan himself as a very macho, stubborn man who will not give up his freedom...
This blog started out with Doctor Who and then Blake's 7; I think it's time I took a look at another example of British "telefantasy", to use a word utilised only by those of us who are fans of it. I've seen the odd episode of The Prisoner before, but that was in another century. I recall pretty much nothing, and I've only seen three or four. So this is all but a fresh viewing, my only preconceptions coming from the programme's reputation and the eponymous song by Iron Maiden.
So what have we here? The bare bones of a backstory- Patrick McGoohan's unnamed character (let's disregard Danger Man, partly because I haven't seen it and partly to avoid dull, reductive attempts to find a literal explanation) used to drive a flash car and work at a posh building in iconic Sixties London but has resigned on a matter of principle (I love the way we see, but don't hear, this happening), only to be returned home to be gassed unconscious... and wakes up in the Village, where we will be spending a lot of time.
Portmeiron is, of course, extraordinary-looking, striking, distinctive, all those things, as well as giving a very Welsh coast feeling of isolation. But what strikes me about the Village as a setting is the stultifying conformity, which is almost as bad as the ubiquitous Orwellian slogans discouraging curiosity. This is a tiny place where everybody knows everybody, with a few permitted pastimes in which one is not just permitted but expected to participate. This smells a little of forced jollity, even of Butlins, and there is nothing more totalitarian than that.
There’s a lot of surface charm in the Village, but it’s a place where a woman desperate to escape is persuaded to work as a “maid” (sexual services are implied) on empty promises of release. It’s also deeply surreal, as though the powers that be control reality itself- the big white balloon of death is scarily effective, and all the more so for being utterly surreal, but even more chilling is the fact everyone stands absolutely still while the balloon follows and kills a man for an unspecified crime. This is achieved by freezing the screen, giving the impression that the laws of physics themselves are under control.
We end the episode with the first of what I’m sure is many failed escape attempts, following a great deal of manipulation involving a fake suicide. Can Number Six (please let us never know his real name) trust anyone?
Even more sinister, it’s heavily implied that Number Six, who has knowledge very much desired by the powers that be, is being treated with kid gloves for the moment. What happens when the gloves come off?
Brilliant, philosophical drama that avoids reducing things to the literal and is delightfully weird. Nice cast, too- we see a young Paul Eddington and an especially young George Baker, whom I’ve just seen in I, Clavdivs. But at the centre of it all is McGoohan himself as a very macho, stubborn man who will not give up his freedom...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)