The Prisoner: The (Highly) Original Series

Your every need is taken care of in “the Village” and the scenery is lovely. All that is asked of residents is that they avoid “unmutual” behavior. Sadly, many people probably will not understand why the freshly arrived Number Six considers it such a miserable prison. Increasingly, his mantra “I am not a number, I am a free man” will fall on deaf ears. That makes the ground-breaking, head-tripping series created by lead actor Patrick McGoohan and George Markstein even more relevant today. The troublesome individualist of the title still refuses to conform in The Prisoner, which airs this weekend as Decade’s Weekend Binge.

A British agent who looks and acts a lot like John Drake, from McGoohan’s previous series, Secret Agent has resigned, citing issues of principle. Shortly thereafter, he wakes up in a vaguely Mediterranean-looking village, supposedly organized along utopian communitarian lines. In practice, it is an open-air prison, where the wardens either safeguard people with too much information in their heads or extract their secrets. Just which side (of the Cold War) runs the Village is unclear. It might even be a joint venture. Regardless, Number Six is not talking. Nor is he willing to accept his captivity, but he quickly finds he can never out-run Rover, the giant surreal beachball that corrals runaways.

“The Arrival” and “The Chimes of Big Ben” (which some chronologies consider the second episode) are largely compatible with Number Six’s espionage origins, but it establishes the duplicitous tactics that will be employed by Village’s ostensive leader, Number Two. There will be many Number Twos, thanks in large part to Number Six’s stubbornness and resourcefulness, but the one played by Leo McKern in “Chimes” is probably the most iconic—he also returns for the last two episodes.

In episodes like “A, B, and C” and “The General,” Number Six does not merely play defense, foiling their schemes. He also plays offense, taking aim at the machinery of their dystopian apparatus. The computer hardware of “The General” might look dated now, but the questions it raises about artificial intelligence apply even more these days. Perhaps the most satisfying episode is “Hammer into Anvil,” wherein Number Six deliberately exploits the paranoia and distrust of a particularly brutal Number Two, to undermine him with the mysterious forces above him. This is about as much fun as subversive behavior gets.

Throughout the series, the Number Twos and their co-conspirators try to get inside Number Six’s head, in more ways than one. In many ways, the show picked up on the brainwashing motif of The Manchurian Candidate, depicting its practice in subtler, more insidious ways. In “Schizoid Man,” Number Six is forced to confront his doppelganger, after having undergone extensive behavioral modification, making him appear to be the imposter. Ironically, it puts him in the position of asserting he is Number Six. Number Two stoops even lower in “A Change of Mind” by faking Number Six’s lobotomy and pumping him full of depressants, but he still can’t extinguish the prisoner’s inherent sense of self.

The New Prisoner

In mathematics, six is the smallest perfect number, making it an appropriate designation for the unnamed protagonist of The Prisoner, Patrick McGoohan’s cult 1960’s science fiction series. While the original Number 6 was a paragon of individuality, times have changed. In AMC’s three-night six-hour miniseries reboot, Number 6 now desperately clings to his sense of self in the face of a technological dystopia. Yet, Prisoner fans will be happy to hear Number 6’s mantra remains the same: “I am not a number, I am a free man.” They will have plenty more to compare, contrast, and debate when The Prisoner (trailer here) debuts this coming Sunday night.

A man wakes up in the middle of the desert. Though disoriented, he still rushes to help an elderly man fleeing an armed gang. Following the dying man’s instructions, he makes his way to the nearest settlement, a community of largely homogenous pre-fab buildings referred to simply as “The Village.” There are no names in The Village. Everyone is known only by their number. (According to the press kit, mine is 779). The reluctant new arrival is told he is and always has been Number 6, by Number 2, the supposedly benevolent ruler of this ostensibly happy community.

We quickly learn from early flashbacks the new Number 6 at least has a first name, Michael. We also know he recently resigned from a sensitive position at an electronic surveillance firm, but the true nature and location of The Village remains a mystery. As in the original series, Number 2 will wage a not-so cold war to break 6 of his headstrong individuality and convince him to accept life in The Village.

Pulling out all the stops, 2 targets 6’s human vulnerabilities, like familial love and romantic attraction. Yet unlike the original 6, who tormented a rotating cast of 2’s with his brilliant counter-measures, the new 6 constantly struggles to maintain his sanity in the face of this 2’s relentless psychological warfare. Of course, should 6 ever try to make a break for it, Rover, the ominous beach ball, is still there to herd him back to the tight little Village.

Number 2’s cream colored suit fits Sir Ian McKellen to a tee. He is absolutely perfect as mysterious mastermind, reveling in every nefarious scheme, while dealing with his rebellious son 11-12 and sick wife, M2. The casting of Jim Caviezel as 6 is also an inspired choice. He has the right on-screen intensity as the defiant everyman and also brings a certain iconoclastic reputation as an actor that actually enhances his credibility in the role. (Who else in Hollywood would be more likely to be banished to The Village than the star of The Passion of the Christ and The Stoning of Soraya M?)

Though many of the particulars have changed (like the desert setting in place of the vaguely Mediterranean ambiance of the original Village), AMC’s Prisoner often nods to the classic series, with strategically placed props, including an antique penny-farthing bicycle and a lava lamp. Writer Bill Gallagher also demonstrates a similar flare for eccentric details, like the Village cuisine, which is now consists almost exclusively of wraps (except for the cakes baked for 2, of course). The new Prisoner also delves deeper into the sociology of The Village, where surveillance is one of the subjects taught in grade school and matches are made through blink counts.

While AMC’s Prisoner is divided into six episodes (each with a title that echoes those of the original series), it is very definitely a sequential narrative that steadily builds towards its final reveal. Unlike the 1960’s show, the new incarnation of The Prisoner is much more cinematic, capitalizing on the sweeping sand dunes and sun-drenched vistas of its desert locale. In fact, Florian Hoffmeister’s lensing nicely reflects the surreal nature of the Village (wherever it might be), suggesting he might be the right cinematographer to shoot the next Dune adaptation as well.

In most respects, the new Prisoner gets the tone and spirit of the otherworldly Village right. However, the evil Summakor Corp. seems like small beer compared to the shadowy forces behind the original Village, which might have been run by our side, the other side, or both sides cooperatively in an early manifestation of New World Order paranoia. Still, AMC’s Prisoner makes up for the evil corporation cliché with a series of increasingly inventive revelations that should even pass muster with the generation of viewers raised on The Matrix.

Indeed, this Prisoner is a very cleverly constructed science fiction event that will definitely entertain newcomers to the Village and satisfy most cult followers of the original Number 6. It is commendably ambitious, requiring a certain commitment of time and attention, given its fractured narrative and the frequently dubious nature of reality within its story. The Prisoner debuts on AMC this Sunday (11/15), continuing through Tuesday (11/17), with two back-to-back episodes each evening (8:00 PM EST).

(Photos © Keith Bernstein/AMC)