The Prisoner Review: “Arrival” (Episode 1)

It’s like bizarro Busch Gardens!

“Where am I?”
“The Village.”
– Number Six and Number Two. The latter would make an excellent tour guide.

Airdate: 29 September 1967

Written By: George Markstein and David Tomblin.

Plot: A British Intelligence agent resigns his commission in a fit of anger. Driving back to his house to pack a suitcase, his house is gassed, and he is knocked out. When he comes to, he finds himself in a mysterious village. No one can give him answers as to where, and no one – least of all the government – will help him out. In fact, the government of the Village appears to want him there…

Review:

The very first scene of The Prisoner contains no audible dialogue. A man on a mission, throwing down his dossier and resigning. A life that we are obscured from in terms of the voices of the actors within, but we see being torn to shreds. We only get a few minutes of that, but those few minutes set up what we need to know – that the life of our protagonist beforehand is to be taken away, dusted off like it was nothing.

Our protagonist knows that his maneuver there would produce a dramatic and possibly life-threatening result, and tried his damnedest to stay ahead of the curve… unaware that there are those ahead of him, and willing to do whatever to make sure that our protagonist pays a hefty price.

Ladies and gentlemen? Welcome to my review series on The Prisoner.

Welcome to “Arrival”.

Indeed, “Arrival” is the plot thread in this episode. For as a pilot episode, it serves to set the scene for the entire series, ranging from the overarching plot to the characters that will dominate over the next sixteen episodes.

Our protagonist is the Agent, a former member of the British civil service whose aforementioned resignation was followed up by his apartment being gassed, and him being knocked out. Already, that intro lures us in with its relative lack of dialogue, combined with the fantastic music score and direction. It makes us wonder… what the hell is going on? A trend that, from what I gather, continues over the rest of the series.

The agent who has no name finds himself on an idyllic island, rather Franco-Mediterranian in architecture and climate. In effect, it’s hell cloaked in a quasi-paradise. The village in question is closed off geographically by many mountains, and the village’s location on the planet is obscured. Taxis only do local service, as well, and loudspeakers blare out messages across the village.

Even from only the first few minutes on the island, we get a sense that escaping the island would be a fool’s errand. And a fool’s errand it is – attempts to escape result in a horrifying meetup with Rover, the infamous “bubble” that absorbs possible defectors, and with one exception, makes them disappear. Likewise, the central government controls virtually every aspect of the society within.

However, the autocracy is made to be benign. In fact, not only is everything meant to be as idyllic as possible, but there are even seemingly un-autocratic auras within – a newspaper reports on events, social clubs exist to appease members, an advice bureau purports its idea of resolving issues, and the village has its own council, complete with elections. The land, in fact, is colorful, with clothing and settings being far removed from what one would expect from dystopia. As far as autocratic lands go, it doesn’t seem all that horrid at first glance.

The line there is that it doesn’t seem so. It’s all just “Panem et circenses”.  The economy appears controlled, with only one flavor of ice cream available for the masses. It’s a small issue, but one alien to most of us in the Western world. In fact, all food is produced by the village. More damning, names are replaced by numbers. Man’s individual code, making him unique, is dismissed in favor of a mere, soulless identity. Breaking said code gets you arrested in front of the entire society, and horrifyingly to boot. Do this, and you are removed, it says.

Likewise, the Labour Exchange – complete with the poster “A still tongue makes a happy life” – serves to produce employment for new citizens via aptitude tests. An initially accommodating exam – where a square hole changes itself to fit a round peg comfortably – is followed up by a questionnaire that probes every aspect of his life. Suspicion abounds, as the agent recognizes that this can be used to keep him away.

And everything is inoffensive. The music is bland and unchallenging easy listening, constantly beamed into the cottage. Attempts to challenge the mind with deeper literature, music, etc. appear to be nonexistent.

In effect, The Village is a dystopia in a thin veneer of utopia. Contentment is used to keep those on the island at bay, all while stripping them of any sort of authority as the days, weeks, months, and even years go on. This setup lures us in and keeps us interested – we are not trapped in a cliche dystopia, nor is the utopia so overwhelming as to make the dystopian aspects completely unbelievable.

So, yeah, our protagonist is stuck here. But why? Or rather, what was the impetus of his resignation, and why did it result in him being transported here, to this mysterious autocratic island. The man who poses these questions is the charismatic Number Two (Gary Doleman) – so-called because he is second in command on the island. Two questions whether or not the agent – henceforth Number Six – resigned based on principle, using his logic to try and throw him. Two, more importantly, manages to strike that balance between being utterly charming and unnervingly horrifying, apparently having gotten access to pictures of Six’s past life, knowing his interests, and revealing that various people have been spying on him through his life, admiring his vast intel and intelligence.

His life is not a secret. His activities are no longer privy to him. Everything Six has done has now been turned into a weapon, to showcase the sheer power that Two has on this island. And to this, Six remains resolute, laying down one of the most memorable quotes in the history of British television…

“I will not make any deals with you. I’ve resigned. I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed, or numbered. My life is my own. You won’t hold me.”

A fascinating quote, but it works even better when you realize the sheer irony. He’s been pushed onto an island, indexed by being given a number to him, briefed by Number Two, and having his personal information organized into a file. His life is no longer his own. The Village holds sway over him and everybody surrounding him.

Right down to the maid assigned to his house, a woman who has apparently only known the existence of the Village. She, in fact, reluctantly accepted her life on the island as it exists. No questioning the leadership, no questioning the practices… nothing. It’s safely assumed that this is common practice. However, even this is a facade, an attempt to draw more information out of him by using pathos – a more acerbic and manipulative attempt to garner information compared to the seemingly affable attempts at negotiation that Two performed earlier in the episode.

So disgusted with this, Six begins to actively flee the Village… only to get caught. He meets a former co-worker and tries to get information from him, only for him to be taken away, and later apparently revealed to have flung himself out of a window. It’s all an attempt to try and strike him down emotionally, unaware of his persistence. His identity is the last to go – no longer does he have a name, as he finds out on the documentation. “I am not a number – I am a person.” The quote which echoes across the show, albeit in a somewhat amended form in the introduction. It is a tragic form of rebellion – a society that gives people numbers all but removes them of their humanity. Hence, why Number Two was so seamlessly replaced. As the new Two – a blunder, more arrogant Two, portrayed by George Baker – argues, “six of one, half dozen of another”.

It’s a nihilistic, emotionless society – anybody can easily be replaced. Nobody has a full purpose. Everybody can be used for the whims of those in power. As an admiral of a boat out to the village puts to Number 9, a woman who seemingly tries to help Number 6 escape, “We’re all pawns, my dear.” Such is the power of the central authority of the Village that everybody becomes suspect.

In fact, you could argue that everybody’s motives are suspect from moment one. The Twos are obvious. And the Maid was clearly a ruse. But Cobb turns out to be alive, in cahoots with Two. Nine appears torn between Two and Six. Hell, we still don’t exactly know why Six himself resigned from the civil service. All of this is handled in a way that sucks you in and makes you wonder… what next?

Who? Why? And when? Simple questions, but imperative in the village.

Moral ambiguity can often be a key to keeping your protagonist a fascinating, and we get quite a bit of this here. There’s a cynicism within – an understandable one, but one that can also emerge via a very acerbic persona. Six is an intriguing protagonist, adding even further mystery to this opening episode that lays plenty of questions on the table.

Likewise, I have to give props on the technical front. The acting is generally on point, with special props going to McGoohan and Gary Doleman. The former is a master of subtle yet powerful facial expressions, whereas the latter manages to interject the perfect amount of horror and class. Concurrently, the music is also intriguing, with mysterious psychedelic jazz that captures the spirit of the society within. The directing is certainly an acquired taste, with camera angles moving at breakneck speed. That is something that I will admittedly have to get adjusted to over the next 17 episodes. I do like it so far, but it is slightly disconcerting.

Likewise, I’d argue that this episode also retains contemporary relevance. Yes, the show is clearly a product of the 60s, what with the costuming, lava lamps, what have you. But damn it if this episode does not put a mark on just how large our surveillance societies have become, what limits should be applied to our democracy, the power of our mass media, or the allegiances that many have with regard to political society. Arguments can be made for their necessity, but watching “Arrival” now does make you wonder… to what extent?

Overall, “Arrival” established itself as an intriguing opening salvo for The Prisoner. The episode lays possible themes for the rest of the series out quite well, executes plot and character in a way that has lured me in to watch further episodes, and manages to strike a broad balance between being exciting to watch and horrifying to watch. In that regard, I’d call this pilot episode a success.

Tidbits:

• Cobb is portrayed by Paul Eddington. Eddington would later become known as materialistic ladder climber Jerry Leadbetter in The Good Life, and would cement his popularity in Yes, Minister, as public opinion porter turned Prime Minister Jim Hacker. Read into his three roles listed here however you want.
• This episode was directed by Don Chaffey. Chaffey would go on to direct three other episodes of the show, and directed several somewhat obscure low-budget films during his career.
• It’s worth noting that the ITV network affiliates were very staggered in their airtimes. Therefore, episodes of shows often aired on different dates depending on what ITV network a Briton was watching. That’s strictly for the record.

Wrap-Up:

Favorite Scene: Those opening few minutes are pretty damn good, but I have to go with Number Six destroying the stereo, only to have the music continue. That’s horrifying on a different level. Propaganda and inoffensive music reign supreme.

Freakiest Scene: Rover’s first appearance. The balloon that eats people… have fun at the next balloon festival, guys!

Memorable Quote: “I am not a number. I am a free person.” – Number Six. The levels of irony within are multiple.

Score: 9. If you go by my formal score guide, scores in the 9 range are must-watches. And on this first watch, I really couldn’t complain about much of anything. Future episodes might challenge this, though, so consider the scores in flux throughout the series.

The next episode to be reviewed will be “Free For All”. In the meantime, the Simpsons and Steven Universe episodes to be covered are “The Mansion Family” and “Gem Drill”.