[.ca] Prisoner: V1

From Amazon.com:
If a top-level spy decided he didn't want to be a spy anymore, could he just walk into HQ and hand in his resignation? With all that classified knowledge in his head, would they let him become a civilian again? The answer, according to the 1960s British TV series The Prisoner, is no. In fact, instead of receiving a gold watch for his years of faithful service, our hero (played by Patrick McGoohan) is followed home and knocked unconscious. When he awakens, he finds himself in a picturesque village where everyone is known by number. But where is it? Why was he brought here? And, most important, how does he leave? As we learn in "Arrival," Number 6 can't leave. The Village's "citizens" might dress colorfully and stroll around its manicured gardens while a band plays bouncy Strauss marches, but the place is actually a prison. Surveillance is near total, and if all else fails, there's always the large, mysterious white ball that subdues potential escapees by temporarily smothering them. Who runs the Village? An ever-changing Number 2, who wants to know why Number 6 resigned. If he'd only cooperate, he's told, life can be made very pleasant. "I've resigned," he fumes. "I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed, or numbered. My life is my own." So sets the stage for the ultimate battle of wills: Number 6's struggle to retain his privacy, sanity, and individuality against the array of psychological and physical methods the Village uses to break him. "Free for All" sees the Village gripped with campaign fever (it's a "democracy," Number 6 is told, though he retains a healthy skepticism). He's encouraged to run for the job of Number 2 against the incumbent, but what's the point? And why is the Village so keen to have a defiant troublemaker like Number 6 take the reins of power? In "Dance of the Dead," Number 2 stages an elaborate costume ball that turns into a nightmarish courtroom scene--and guess who's on trial? An allegory of the conflict between person and society, individuality and conformity, and freedom and slavery, The Prisoner asks more questions than it answers, and that can be a maddening experience for viewers who like their TV neat and tidy. McGoohan (Braveheart, Escape from Alcatraz) also created, wrote, and directed much of the show, yet it's his screen presence that sets its tone. His terse body language, sardonic half-smile, and simmering anger at his imprisonment are used to maximum effect in scripts that emphasize strict word economy and witty repartee. So does he ever escape? And does he ever find out who Number 1 is? "Questions are a burden to others," the Village saying goes. "Answers, a prison for oneself." Besides, only 14 more episodes until all is revealed. Or is it? --Steve Landau

Amazon.com Essential Video:
If a top-level spy decided he didn't want to be a spy anymore, could he just walk into HQ and hand in his resignation? With all that classified knowledge in his head, would they let him become a civilian again? The answer, according to the 1960s British TV series The Prisoner, is no. In fact, instead of receiving a gold watch for his years of faithful service, our hero (played by Patrick McGoohan) is followed home and knocked unconscious. When he awakens, he finds himself in a picturesque village where everyone is known by number. But where is it? Why was he brought here? And, most important, how does he leave? As we learn in "Arrival," Number 6 can't leave. The Village's "citizens" might dress colorfully and stroll around its manicured gardens while a band plays bouncy Strauss marches, but the place is actually a prison. Surveillance is near total, and if all else fails, there's always the large, mysterious white ball that subdues potential escapees by temporarily smothering them. Who runs the Village? An ever-changing Number 2, who wants to know why Number 6 resigned. If he'd only cooperate, he's told, life can be made very pleasant. "I've resigned," he fumes. "I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed, or numbered. My life is my own." So sets the stage for the ultimate battle of wills: Number 6's struggle to retain his privacy, sanity, and individuality against the array of psychological and physical methods the Village uses to break him. "Free for All" sees the Village gripped with campaign fever (it's a "democracy," Number 6 is told, though he retains a healthy skepticism). He's encouraged to run for the job of Number 2 against the incumbent, but what's the point? And why is the Village so keen to have a defiant troublemaker like Number 6 take the reins of power? In "Dance of the Dead," Number 2 stages an elaborate costume ball that turns into a nightmarish courtroom scene--and guess who's on trial? An allegory of the conflict between person and society, individuality and conformity, and freedom and slavery, The Prisoner asks more questions than it answers, and that can be a maddening experience for viewers who like their TV neat and tidy. McGoohan (Braveheart, Escape from Alcatraz) also created, wrote, and directed much of the show, yet it's his screen presence that sets its tone. His terse body language, sardonic half-smile, and simmering anger at his imprisonment are used to maximum effect in scripts that emphasize strict word economy and witty repartee. So does he ever escape? And does he ever find out who Number 1 is? "Questions are a burden to others," the Village saying goes. "Answers, a prison for oneself." Besides, only 14 more episodes until all is revealed. Or is it? --Steve Landau

This show is about nothing and McGoohan is bi-sexual:
Although the show is well acted and well photographed there is no payoff in th last ep. It is all going round in circle (you'll know what I mean if you've seen every ep). And McGoohan obviously has serious problems being around most women (except for his wife and daughters). He's obviously a bi-sexual making up a dumb story about not wanting to set bad examples to kids with romantic scenes.

"We are democratic - in some ways...":
If you have noticed the profound changes society has been undergoing during the past few decades and find them alarming, "The Prisoner" is the TV series for you. Far too complex and ahead of its time when it first aired in 1967, it has become more and more relevant ever since. Typically, the messages of great satires can be applied to an ever-increasing number of aspects of our existence over the time, and indeed, many of the most disturbing features of modern life are being dealt with or at least hinted at in "The Prisoner". This is why this is still highly enjoyable and recommendable TV - it is so much more than just another sixties spy series. The action takes place in the "Village", a beautiful place; outwardly a luxury seaside resort surrounded by picturesque mountains, it harbours a totalitarian society. Totalitarianism does not necessarily mean "a boot crushing a human face", as George Orwell put it in "1984", another immortal satire. A totalitarian regime may as well present itself as a superficially liberal, affluent society, devoid of the more explicit means of suppression like gulags and concentration camps we normally associate with it. It may just as well crush independent spirits slowly, insidiously with the help of relentless, pussy-footed propaganda and lowering of educational and subversion of moral and cultural standards. The more dumbed-down the citizens become, the more readily they believe every misinformation they are being fed. The basic outlines of "The Prisoner" are well known. After having been rendered unconscious by sleeping gas, the hero wakes up in "The Village", that colourful luxury prison for people who know too much. A prison it undeniably is, and like the other inmates, the man is first stripped of his name and assigned a number instead - six -, then of his personal clothes and belongings and given one of the Village uniforms, a simple and chilling symbol of being robbed of his individuality. Surveillance is constant, with intrusive cameras observing his every movement, hidden microphones recording every conversation. This sounds familiar, doesn't it? The ubiquitous Village propaganda - TV spots, posters, brought-in-line newspapers, piped messages - is uncannily similar to politically correct language or modern management-speak: verbose, yet at the same time impoverished as regards vocabulary, it conceals its true purposes with veiled, euphemistic expressions. Already on his first day in the Village, the new Number Six realises that his fellow inmates enjoy every material amenity but not freedom of any kind. He learns that rebellion is nipped in the bud and that only few of the citizens are courageous enough to speak their minds. Sinister things are going on behind the colourful facades of the Village, and the contrast between the utter loveliness of the surroundings and the methods of brainwashing and torture hinted at only heightens the feeling of menace and displacement pervading the whole series. Lewis Carroll's "Through The Looking Glass" comes into mind. The Prisoner soon learns what it means to be brought to hospital for "readjustment". "We have many ways and means," announces one particularly ruthless Village administrator in "Free For All", one of the darkest and most pessimistic episodes. All the Village authorities wish to know is why Number Six resigned from his confidential job. It is so little they want and so tempting to give in and settle down for a quiet life in the beautiful hell. But Number Six will have none of this and accepts the challenge. He refuses to cooperate; moreover, he fights back whenever possible, trying to escape or, especially in the later episodes, to unmask the powers that run the Village. The stage is set for a dramatic struggle. This first set contains three of the best episodes. "Arrival" has been called the best pilot episode ever made for television; "Free For All", written and directed by Patrick McGoohan himself, is a critical, scathingly intelligent comment on democracy and the election process, depressing and viciously funny at the same time; "Dance Of The Dead" is weird and wonderful, with stunning, beautifully filmed sequences. The "Alternative Chimes" may not display the highest picture and sound quality but it is a nice extra for true fans. This series is essential viewing for people who enjoy TV that is more than mere entertainment, who are aware that liberal societies are being assulted by not only one evil but several, and for those fond of satires like "1984", " Brave New World" or Jonathan Swift's "A Modest Proposal".

classic british tv series:
One of the best television series from a golden era of British television and cinema, The Prisoner formed out of actor Patrick McGoohan's reluctance to continue with his Dangerman series, which he felt had gone its distance. The Prisoner is one of the most surreal shows of that period: only The Avengers can match its oddball features, but that one had a lighter touch. The Prisoner takes aim at the conflict between society's and the individual's interests, and the result is continually thought-provoking and crafted to resemble a continuous suite of Magritte paintings.

That bubble is disturbing:
I was in a college class where we had to watch this. Being used to television of today, the plot moved comparably slower, making it a little difficult to sit through. When we discussed the "Arrival" episode, most thought that the bubble was a little distubing. Compared with shows of today (Alias, for example), it was just 'unnatural.' I did like what I saw. I think that a classic television is good, not only for study (as I had to do), but also because modern television seems to move too quickly at times. They have to tell a complete story in a hour, minus the commercials.

A new beginning:
While I endorse THE PRISONER as one of the truly artistic programs on commercial television, I understand why it makes people angry. It promises to be a straightforward if offbeat spy thriller, but turns into a surrealistic allegory. If you feel it would be easier to accept THE PRISONER's rhetorical left turn had it come earlier and/or been better foreshadowed, you might try watching the series in A & E's revised order. While its primary intent is to present events in the proper sequence, the new order also provides the foreshadowing that makes the final outcome acceptable. Of course, the first episode MUST be "Arrival," which sets up the basic situation. A British secret agent (series creator Patrick McGoohan) abruptly resigns, is mysteriously rendered unconscious, and awakens in The Village, the location of which is known only to those who run it. It looks like a vacation resort, but it's definitely a prison camp. Those who won't volunteer desired information have it extracted from them in the hospital. Those who try to escape get to meet Rover, a belligerent weather balloon capable of locomotion, and seemingly of independent thought. Rover deals with fugitives by plastering itself against their faces, rendering them unconscious or dead, depending on its mood. Citizens of The Village are identified only by numbers, our protagonist being No. 6. The Village is run by No. 2, who reports to an unseen and unidentified No. 1 -- apparently an unforgiving boss, because No. 2 is always being replaced. No. 6 is informed that he's there for life, and that his captors want to know why he resigned. Of course, he doesn't want to tell them, and does want to escape and find out who's in charge. And therein lies the conflict around which the series is built. The new second and third episodes are "Free for All," originally shown fourth*, and "Dance of the Dead," originally shown eighth*. To me, these are the weirdest (except for "Fall Out"), most disturbing, and most depressing episodes, which I suspect is why they were originally postponed. A & E begins with these episodes because they both call No. 6 a recent arrival This placement makes sense to me because both episodes show No. 6 trying to get his bearings and learning the hard way about the darker side of Village life. In fact, "Dance" seems more concerned with atmosphere than plot. But to me, the major advantage of starting with these episodes is that their twisted, nightmarish logic foreshadows the surrealism of THE PRISONER's conclusion. There's also a piece of dialog in "Free for All" that might even foreshadow the identity of No. 1, but I won't include it here because "that would be telling." BTW, "Free for All" shows No. 6 getting the nonalcoholic liquor spiel that he gives Nadia in "Chimes of Big Ben," which was originally shown second*. Another thing that struck me about watching "Free" before "Chimes" was that we see No. 6 getting that whirlpool treatment from Rover before we see it happen to Nadia, so that when No. 6 looks at the unconscious Nadia on the beach in "Chimes," we now see it as a knowing look from someone who's been there. The picture quality of all episodes is far superior to that of MPI's original VHS release. Especially improved is the scene in "Free for All" where we see No. 6 stumble down a corridor bathed in red light. An inherent problem with VHS is that such red scenes tend to appear grainy. The sound is also superior as far as fidelity goes,, although it's still mono. I realize you can argue that a movie or television program on DVD should have the same mix in which it was originally presented, and from the standpoint of historical accuracy I agree. From an aesthetic standpoint, however, I think it depends on how the movie/TV program's creators would have presented it if the capability had existed. I can't help but wonder whether McGoohan would have used surround sound if he'd had the option. In any case, I think a few surround effects at strategic moments might have spiced the DVD release up a bit. Even in mono, however, these episodes are enhanced by a good home theater system with a decent subwoofer. I'm thinking specifically of (a) the marching band sequences in "Free for All," with that booming bass drum, (b) Rover's "awakening" and rising from the ocean floor, (c) the automatically opening doors, (d) the slamming prison door that ends each episode. Regarding the bonus features, I was mildly disappointed by the "foreign file cabinet" footage, used for the opening sequence in non-English versions of the series. It includes only the cutaways of the "RESIGNED" label on the drawer. I was hoping it would include some part of the opening sequence to provide context. The "Alternate Chimes of Big Ben" is part of any definitive PRISONER collection (despite its poor sound quality, which I wish A & E had tried to enhance). This is a preliminary cut, using different theme music and sound effects, and including a scene in which No. 6 uses a navigational device to try and determine the location of The Village. However, I think it would have made more sense to package it with the official version. Alas, the "Alternate Arrival" isn't included here or on any of the A & E sets. The "textless intro" provides an unobstructed view of some shots usually covered by opening credits. The "textless outro" didn't do much for me, though, because the cool thing about the closing is the way the credits are fit in with the construction of the bicycle. The interactive map, I just plain didn't get. The trivia showed me I really haven't been paying as much attention to detail as I should have. *In both the U.S. and U.K.