“I would like to say a brief word about SpeedLearn. It is quite simply the most important, most far-reaching, most beneficent development in mass education since the beginning of time. A marriage of science and mass communication, which results in the abolition of years of tedious and wasteful schooling.” – The Professor. Here’s a hint – if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.
Airdate: November 3rd, 1967.
Written By: Lewis Greifer.
Plot: A new method of education has taken the Village by storm. Labeled “SpeedLearn”, it promises the ability to take a three-year course in mere minutes. The current offering is history, with a focus on the post-Napoleonic era of Europe. However, Six suspects – and discovers – that there is fraudulence behind the too-good-to-be-true product. But what is the source?
Review:
The intriguing thing about watching classic television in the contemporary age is just how much investment in episode-to-episode continuity has taken hold. I mean, nowadays, an increasing percentage of television shows are dispatching with the status quo in favor of a more streamlined narrative, which requires one to often go all-in on a show from episode 1, or at least, the start of the season. While more obvious for dramas who have used the long game to their advantage (Breaking Bad, Mad Men, and The Sopranos), this trend has even evolved towards even animated shows with a target audience of children adopting this strategy (Steven Universe has done so, albeit broken up with “slice of life” episodes, while Netflix’s Hilda operated it’s first season as a continuous narrative).
As a result, watching older television shows becomes more interesting. Not that it makes them less fun, but the more episodic nature therein tends to make us contemporary viewers question continuity. This is especially true of The Prisoner – time and again, on this blog or across the internet the order of the episodes has been mentioned as the great curiosity of the franchise.
With that in mind, we get an episode that can count as either a direct sequel or prequel to the prior one reviewed, “A, B, and C” – the title being “The General”.
The controversy comes in how one measures the actions of Number Two – again, played by Colin Gordon. The end of “A, B, and C” had the Telephone of Despair ring out, all but indicating that at the end of his failed venture – the first one to be a largely unqualified success for Six – that he was to be sacked as the second in command. Yet, here in this episode, he is back in charge.
I’ll get to my arguments for and against closer to the end. The events in “The General” sort of set the tone for my arguments for and against.
“The General”, in many ways, is about the art of selling the seemingly impossible – a common case in this modern society, what with MLM schemes and all that. In this case, absorbing the information of a three-year course in the span of just a few minutes. For those wondering, the title of the episode revolves around a point of praise for the new education system, that it appeals to the general. If your suspicion wasn’t raised by the sheer insanity of the act combined with the prior examples of The Village’s idiosyncracies being largely smoke and mirrors, well, now you have to wonder why, why this system is being marketed the way it is.
The system of delivery – through the television – is certainly also idiosyncratic, at least by the standards of traditional education. That said, it would prove somewhat prescient in many cases as television became more of a force in the lives of the citizens. In 1969, the Open University debut in the UK, allowing for distance undergraduate education for British citizens. Channels included the use of television, and later, videotapes, DVDs, and the internet. And even today, we have the Internet, which allows us to access all sorts of lectures from all sorts of universities across the world!
…we use it to instead yell about Arsenal and follow Donald Trump’s Twitter account.
Anyway, this marks The Prisoner‘s foray into more traditional hypnosis – the television is used to communicate the information via a mind trick. The information is relayed into the brain at speeds so fast that the eye itself doesn’t see the information, but the mind manages to pick up on the data being transmitted. And apparently, it works, as he’s able to recite facts about post-Napoleonic European History, right to the words of Number Two. The history major in me smirked.
Here’s the thing, though – there is a lot of “what”, and quite a bit of “how”. But there’s very little room for personal analysis of history, extrapolating extra details that could set the scene for historical thought. History is a fact-based subject, but analyses require the use of elements from across the world, and even dating back decades, if not centuries. It also requires a certain balance as to the impact of events, the measurement of sources and the quality therein.
For example, the selected period of discussion and lecture deals with the post-Napoleonic period, but it doesn’t indicate the impact of the Congress of Vienna in 1814-15 on these events – how they occurred despite the intent of said Congress being stability and the promotion of conservatism. It’s just taking facts at face value, all without getting to the sources within. After all, they’re relying upon history that seems to be uncontroversial, written by the winners.
Everybody knows the same historical facts in The Village. Nothing more. Nothing less. Another example of the dulling of the minds, but further, a method to completely brainwash the citizens. Differences in judgment – even if they are “mistakes” – and variances in analyses are considered damning, a threat to the society. This helps feed into the narrative of The Village being a warped take on the ideal society – where in trying to create a utopia, the powers that be prove themselves to be a dystopia of the highest caliber.
The theme of “perfection via autocracy” is one that has impacted years of science fiction – even Steven Universe has taken a stab at it, albeit via more of a personal perspective, and has used the power of personal variants as a central theme stemming from its second episode! To come out in the 60s, months before the 1968 Student Riots in France, was nothing short of timely on its own terms.
Back on the point of the sheer pointlessness of Speed Learning, it turns out, even The Professor himself appears to agree, as per the tape all but calling for the experiment to end, as it is nothing more than a scam. He also calls for the destruction of The General.
What then transpires is a symbolic rift between the fact-based rote endorsers, as demonstrated by the public facade of the Professor, and the creatives, as demonstrated (at least in private) by his wife… and even himself. Turns out, they get to enjoy a more vibrant canon of arts and literature. They have the power, they have access to more abstract ideas. Those on the bottom? Resigned to rote education.
And from rote education comes the pathway towards indoctrination. Without creative or constructive thinking, you can be molded into anything.
This episode just drags it to the furthest natural extent – three minutes to insert in the minds a three-year course? Make it popular enough, and you can sell them on anything with a certain level of hypnosis.
It’s a case of forcing alliances.
Which makes it ironic that, unusually, Six winds up with an alliance that actually appears to be genuine, instead of an act of manipulation. This time, he strikes up a friendship with Twelve, portrayed by John Castle (best known for portraying Agrippa Postumus in the 1976 drama I, Claudius.) Rather than just use Six in a pawn for his own game, he actually serves as an actual partner in his attempts to sabotage the powers that be – not only giving him the damning tape that exposes the fraudulence of Speed Learning, but encouraging him to try and intercept the broadcast of the message. Even further, he’s actually in the inner circle – sabotaging them instead of committing sabotage for them.
In other shows, this wouldn’t necessarily be a rare character archetype. It’s in The Prisoner, a show where no one – that even includes our protagonist, to a certain extent – is to be trusted. So to have this character actually be genuine is actually somewhat refreshing within the confines of The Prisoner‘s narrative.
Granted, this time, he does keep his own alliances secret at first when Six is caught out trying to replace an intended lesson with a script calling for the liberation of education in the Village. But all of this as Two presents his argument – “I’m sure that a man of your caliber will appreciate that rebels must be kept under the closest possible surveillance with a view to their extinction if the rebellion is absolute… it’s the image that is important, the kindly image…”
Besides all but indicating the askance towards variance of thought, of all shapes and sizes, by the state, this quote all but indicates that Six’s character is sussed out. That for all his brilliance, his large fault in terms of escaping is his rather distant and cold behavior. Not that he’s an out and out antagonist, mind you – his motives are actually rather heroic, from what we gather. But his distance allows for others to be armed, to see him as the threat he is. His victories, the few that exist, come more because he and The Village are starting to play wise with each other, a game of cat and mouse.
Which leads us to the namesake of The General… a supercomputer invented and programmed by the Professor.
The ramifications of this are brilliant. I mean, this is rather precognitive of The Prisoner. In the age of standardized testing across America, of teachers being measured by broad test scores, forced to confine to certain strict curricula (which largely varies on a state-by-state basis), an unceasing bureaucracy fueled by No Child Left Behind and Common Core regulations, many have argued that the soul of K-12 Education has been diluted, if not vaporized.
A computer – at least, discounting the internet (which didn’t exist for mass consumption, if at all, before 1991) can decipher exact logarithms. It can relay facts, expose trivia, solve problems in seconds.
It can’t theorize why. There’s a wealth of information, but no soul, no ability to get into the subconscious, the motives of the individual.
Much like the answers of Speed Learning.
Much like the populace of The Village.
By the end of the episode, Two has his man. He wants confirmation. But when the computer is inquired as to the reasoning behind everything – by Six himself – it overloads and explodes, taking Twelve and the Prisoner with it. Deeper thinking to The General? On par with dividing two by zero.
Of course, Six’s own gamble in asking to pose the question to the computer proved his point before the fatal error. He wanted to pose the question, but Two initially refused. Six retorts by asking him if he’s afraid of failure. Why won’t Two allow for the question to be posted by Six?
Is he afraid of being caught out? Naturally. But why? Is he afraid of shame? That somebody else will usurp his position? These seem like easy answers to us. But the truth can only be within the mind of Two.
Now, as I mentioned before, the use of Colin Gordon as Two in this episode and “A, B, and C” presents a dilemma. What episode would go first?
If we are to argue for “The General” being first, let us consider that Two in “A, B, and C” is far more on edge. He is far quicker to want to get into the mind of Six. In effect, with Six posing the question “why”, “A, B, and C” is his attempt to understand why Six left the civil service, why he acts the way he does. That, in and of itself, winds up refocusing the Village on trying to figure out “why” – no more just trying to force the man to confess personally, they now have to go deeper. In effect, one could argue that Two was able to bide himself more time to The Powers That Be by deciding to go back to the question that overhangs the series.
Why?
Even further, the victory in “The General” was more mixed – Six wasn’t able to break The Village out of it’s trance, but he did get the next best thing, the destruction of the source. That makes the more unqualified victory in “A, B, and C” more of a straightforward path of development – in effect, wearing down Two’s influence over the span of two episodes.
For the counterargument, it can be argued that “The General” presented the most ambitious attempts to instill autocracy on The Village. No longer would there be a direct threat. This time, there would be an effective method of indoctrination that would implement itself on behalf of the citizens. However, Six called Two’s bluff, and that method – alongside its tragic creator and an errant member of the inner circle – are now dead. With fatalities of the inner circle now made, that surely signaled the end of Two’s career. Likewise, there is a line where Two refers to himself and Six as “old friends”, although that is broad enough to be applied to anything.
While I would love to see any arguments to the contrary (seriously), if I do create a viewing order at the end, I am going to have to put “The General” before “A, B, and C”. I might change my mind by the time my look at this show is over, however. It makes more sense… to me.
Honestly, whether you put “The General” before or after, I have to ultimately pose one argument of my own. “The General” has just put itself first in my qualitative ranking of Prisoner episodes, and it will be a shame if I have to move this to second because another episode was so damn good.
It manages to strike both a broad topic that has become more prescient in contemporary society while also being quite profound in its own timeframe, the dialogue and direction is brilliant, and beyond the frustrations of earlier episodes, this episode ends with quite a bit of tragedy. Beyond that, while I really did like the earlier episodes that I watched, “The General” really makes me feel like The Prisoner will end up as one of my favorite shows.
It’s the first time I felt like this could be one of my shows – not just one that I’m watching and reviewing, but one that I could seriously go back to time and time again. This could be what “Better Than Life” was to Red Dwarf, or “Rose’s Scabbard” was to Steven Universe – the episode that sold me on The Prisoner.
And that is why.
Tidbits:
- There really isn’t much to add to this section, honestly. It is noted that neither The Prisoner nor his wife are given numbers – rather, they are referred to by their titles and their titles alone. Think about it – I would argue he is superficially creating a reform to education so groundbreaking in The Village that he could be something supreme, albeit separate from the leadership. All the while, she gets to enjoy the benefits of the liberal arts in her private life.
- Likewise, one of the busts exposed was that of Leo McKern’s two, as found in “The Chimes of Big Ben”. From what I’ve read, McKern would go down alongside Gordon to be the only actors to play a Two more than once in the show’s run.
- This episode was written by Lewis Greifer. While his resume was relatively short, it contained episodes of the soap opera Crossroads (apparently infamous for the low production values) and the first draft of the Doctor Who serial “Pyramids of Mars”. That said, he did have a career as a journalist for the London Evening Standard. Who knows – maybe his research during his journalism years provided inspiration for this episode.
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- Ironically, given that last point, the Evening Standard is currently edited by former Chancellor of the Exchequer George Osborne. Osborne has been tied to the rather exclusive Bullingdon Club at the prestigious Oxford University – a membership that included former PM David Cameron and former Foreign Minister Boris Johnson. Their apparent elitism (at least that of Osborne and Cameron) became the target of many a comic. Maybe the populism of education isn’t a bad thing… just don’t do it via SpeedLearn. And research your facts more in-depth.
Wrap-Up:
Favorite Scene: The General being destroyed, albeit at the cost of The Professor and Number Twelve. It really is so well directed, full of pathos and a genuine sense of horror. And the aftermath, it really underscores the tragic nature of this victory.
Freakiest Scene: If a computer exploding and taking two people with it doesn’t get this spot, what does?
Memorable Quote: It’s the quote that not only underscores the tragedy of this episode but also underscores a narrative theme lingers over the entire series. “Why?” Thank you, Number Six.
Score: 10.
In years past, when I was reviewing shows that I was accustomed to (Red Dwarf and Gravity Falls), I would reserve the 10 Score to what I felt was the best episode of the series. This show, since I’m watching it for the first time, really marks the first test of that policy – I might wind up giving another episode or two a “10”, and maybe regrade the episodes based on the curve set at the end.
Either way, this episode was the most astonishing of those that I’ve watched so far. Next up on The Prisoner, “The Schizoid Man”… interesting title.
But first, we have to go look at a man’s path to sobriety and a woman’s path through the hell that is grief.
The Review Nebula 