The Prisoner Review: “A, B, and C” (Episode 6)

A brief note before we begin: I do want to apologize if the radio silence from this blog came off as longer than expected. I’ll be honest – I took a bit of an unintentional break after posting the Trek 09 review, one of my longer posts in terms of content. I really don’t know why I did it, but I wanted to just unwind for a week or so. And then, this first full week of 2019, I wound up fighting a bit of a cold that sort of dulled my energy to write up my analysis of today’s subject. It’s minor in the grand scheme of things, of course, so I have to keep that in mind.

Either way, I think that I have rebounded, and 2019’s group of reviews are going to be interesting. And we start off now with…

“I know sir, yes. I know I’m not indispensable…” – Two, at the start of the episode, learning what other Twos likely learned the hard way.

Airdate: October 13th, 1967

Written By: Anthony Skene

Plot: Under pressure from Number One, Two decides to delve into Six’s mindscape with the help of drugs that allow for the experimentation thereof. Three does – delivered on three different days to prevent possible overdose – allow Two and his assistant, Number Fourteen, to explore different suspects, the titular characters. Unbeknownst to them, though, their gambles result in side effects that can come back to bite them…

Review:

We are six episodes into The Prisoner and I barely have any idea what is going on. This isn’t a bad thing by any stretch of the imagination. After all, I think it’s clear that the motivations of McGoohan and Company are to throw the viewer for as many curveballs as possible.

It forces us to think, both on the level of the script and of the meta-level. What is causing this madness, and what is piling all this madness on top of our protagonist? It forces the viewer to tune in week after week – a precursor to contemporary sci-fi shows such as LOST and The X-Files. The difference is, with a pre-planned 17-episode block, there was no opportunity to interweave several insane plot threads – we instead get the overarching one and a couple of smaller branches on the side that don’t get long enough to destroy the broader narrative.

At least, that’s what I’m gathering from these first few episodes. Anyway, here is episode 6 – the first of the “unnecessary episodes” according to McGoohan.

Weirdly enough, it might be the most distinct episode of the six I’ve covered so far. So… point against McGoohan, I guess?

What makes “A, B, and C” distinct is the initial perspective. The five episodes that I’ve covered prior have largely been looking at the point of view of Six, with occasional forays to the powers that be – the Twos in particular. This time, we get something of a flip, with the episode starting off with Two in hot water. Yes – TWO is in hot water. Apparently, there might be more than term limits as the prevailing reason for the spot’s instability reaching Australian PM levels.

This Two, played by Colin Gordon, is seemingly more measured as per the script, coming off more as a bureaucrat compared to the more dictatorial showmen of the prior Number Twos. However, the threat of being punished does underscore the desperation within his actions. He’s been placed in the ultimate position – break Six into giving information about his resignation. And while other Twos did attempt to do so, here, it’s clear that this is the central origin of his mandate.

Even further, this episode is seemingly told in flashback, a byproduct of Six’s mindscape. In fact, it’s a mystery flashback, based on the eponymous foreign agents whom Six is thought to have interacted with before the events of the entire series. While the presentation in the third person is certainly a bit of a bummer, it’s not nearly enough to completely tank the episode. (Besides, this is a show with a bubble that absorbs people.) Even further, the events of the episode are within the dreamscape, the manifestation of the subconscious.

However, this subconscious is now being manipulated by the town itself, to create scenarios where Six would be willing to disclose the information that led to his resignation. Besides being another horrifying view of how the seemingly idyllic Village is mad with autocracy, it also serves as something of a precursor to the Holodeck episodes from Star Trek: TNG, or the “Rose’s Room” episodes from Steven Universe – changing scenarios either via programming or via the subconscious. This time, we go deep inside the mind to do so.

As one can extrapolate, the episode reflects on the motives that A, B, and C bring towards Six’s interactions.

A, portrayed by Peter Bowles (the only actor behind the three eponymous characters still alive, for the record), serves as something of a predecessor to Six. I do find it interesting that he “defected six years ago” – if only because my mind went to the actual real-life Profumo affair that occurred four-to-five years before the episode aired (and discredited the then-Tory government). Maybe they were trying to take some ideas from that particular scandal.

Anyway, A is characterized much in the vein of the traditional agent. Yet, while Six is much more openly critical, A appears to be more disarming and relaxed in public, somewhat more cordial in contrast to the more snarky and prickly attitude of Six, and at least coming off as more straightforward at first glance. However, all of this belies a more sinister character, one willing to kidnap Six when he refuses to sell the information over. Given that this is Six’s dreamscape, one can ascertain his own views of those who maintain personable attitudes while within formal work – that they are suspect, intending to manipulate people for their own ends.

So, what of B?

Well, in the interim, Six deduces that there is an immediate game being played, even though he doesn’t quite know what the circumstances of the game are. Therefore, his subconscious might control his dreamscape at a much stronger level. And therein, B appears to be more influenced by this change. Her demeanor is initially quite a glamorous and romantic figure, very much framed in a style that to me is vaguely reminiscent of the Hepburn family. Indeed, we can decipher that a similar conversation likely did play out to a point between Six and B.

However, what is changed is that the members of the dreamscape can be used as puppets to exchange information. In this case, Fourteen winds up taking over Dream B to extrapolate the information within. When the tone changes, though, Six picks up quite easily on the deception – being all but certain that he is being manipulated – and refuses to stop B from being shot by agents, obviously a scenario generated by the powers that be. This represents the battle of the mind – Six versus Fourteen in the most intimate part of one person, and in this particular battle, Six manages to win by a rather convincing, albeit imperfect, margin.

Just the battle.

But it’s this battle and the recognition that something is disturbed in his subconscious that drives him to investigate further. Merely resisting isn’t enough – Six is driven to actual sabotage of the antagonistic efforts. Breaking into the dream simulator room, he decides to dilute the solution intended to force the dreams with water – allowing him a more conscious control over the dreams that will be formulated (and, if Fourteen’s warnings are to be believed, possibly saving his life), and at home, only taking enough of the drugged tea with water to accurately simulate taking the drug itself.

It’s enough to completely warp the dream – a dream where Six is more lively, more in control of his universe, yet where the visions of the world are also distorted even further – thus far, it’s one of the most stereotypically “trippy” moments of the entire series, even though it’s still distinctly in the realm of spy fiction.

Also, we do get a partial answer to the question that drives this episode. The third agent, C, is actually Madame Engadine. However, Six is more interested in the exploits of a fourth variable, a fourth spy… “D”… as his mind frames it, Two.

The game is now in Six’s court – leading Two on to believe that he is to be given the information, all while disgracing him on a public level by revealing that their quest to find out who Six sold out to is fruitless, because his resignation was not an attempt to block an investigation into sabotage. There was none. The information given is just a bunch of travel packets. Remember the cult of surveillance that exists across the entirety of the Village – not a man is spared from Big Brother.

Not even Two, as he learns when the phone of doom, the phone that has petrified him into his continued desperation, gambling on Six’s life, rings at the end of the episode.

I should disclose that a cursory glance does reveal that Colin Gordon will reappear as Two in the next Prisoner episode up, “The General”. Again, The Prisoner’s intended viewing order is disputed to this very day. I’m mulling over presenting my own when I’m done with the series (whenever that may be), but it may appear that I’ll deviate from Six of One’s order and swap “A, B, and C” and “The General” in the end.

Alternatively, you could argue that Two did get an answer within. It wasn’t the answer required, and it did embarrass him, but it was at least something…

…either way, after five consecutive defeats, Six gets his first, almost completely unambiguous victory here. Even with the above justification, Gordon’s Two was embarrassed, Six was able to gain the upper hand over him and Fourteen, and he leaves the episode mentally intact, insofar as he can be in The Village.

Likewise, while other episodes are largely allegorical, “A, B, and C” is more of a character piece, examining what goes on within Six’s mindscape. How does he interact with other agents, whether they be possible defectors, loyalists, or otherwise? And how does he formulate his plans to get back at The Village? Indeed, his methods do seem to “turn the tables” in a somewhat more overt way.

If there is anything symbolic, it’s how Six’s dream parties went from the very formal and reserved nature in the first two dreams all the way to the more psychedelic-influenced style in the third. This could very well be a reference to how the society of Eisenhower, Sinatra, HUAC, and Harold MacMillian gave way to the world of The Beatles, Top of the Pops, the Students for a Democratic Society, and John F. Kennedy.

Indeed, I do have to wonder… was Six’s resignation caused by his dissatisfaction with the old guard still influencing attitudes within the British Civil Service? I mean, even with the societal attitudes of the 1960s being more liberal, older generations were still in charge of the governments. Maybe he felt dissatisfied not with policy, but with the society that he was being blocked off from. Even the travel packets might be a rejection of the stiff climate he feels himself to be trapped in.

If true, he left that society that was constricting… and went to a society that is even more so, but superficially eccentric.

Regardless, “A, B, and C” is another episode that really secures itself as “pretty damn good”. The plot is intriguing and experimental, the directing is marvelous, and of course, the writing and dialogue are overall well-executed. The Prisoner is batting 6-for-6 right now, and I have to say, even if it confuses me, I’m actually enjoying the ride right now!

Tidbits:

• Tragically, a week after this episode debuted on the ITV Network, Annette Carell died in her home in London, apparently from an intentional overdose of anti-depressants.
• In fact, of the five guest actors within, it appears that A is the only one who is still living as of this post.
• Adding on to this is the fact that Colin Gordon would ultimately be one of two actors who would play Two on multiple occasions.
• It is worth noting that, back in “Dance of the Dead”, Six remarked that he wasn’t fond of drinking. Yet, in this episode, he appears to take to the wine at the party. One could argue that “rarely” is code for him being a social drinker, at least in situations where he is comfortable. Alternately, one of those instances may have been deceptions on Six’s part, to throw the Village on some level.
• In 1993, Channel 4 in the UK decided to reair The Prisoner. When it came time to air this episode, they got a rather poor copy of the episode. And by “poor”, I mean the whole scene with Six interrogating B was not included.

Wrap-Up:

Favorite Scene and Freakiest Scene: I just love that whole aura of the third dream sequence, how the world that Six occupied in his dream suddenly becomes antithetical to the worlds in the prior dreams, and how the camera becomes distorted. In a show that explores surreality via the writing, I find the direction in this episode (the work of Pat Jackson) to actually embrace that zeitgeist.

Memorable Quote: “I don’t spend all of my time spying.” “Don’t you? Your predecessors did.” – Two and Six. I just love the irony of this line, a spy snarking about the state of eternal vigilance within The Village. It really does show a lot about his character, opens up new hints about his modus operandi.

Score: 8.5. Another great episode for what’s turning out to be a great viewing experience thus far.