The Prisoner Review: “The Schizoid Man” (Episode 8)

Lister: (having watched a Psiren that took his form get shot) How did you know that wasn’t me?
Cat: Because that dude could play!
Lister: (aggravated) He was no better than me.
Kryten: That’s the way you believe you can play. That way, when the Psiren read your mind, he shared your delusion that you are not a ten-thumbed, tone-deaf, talentless noise polluter.
– “Psirens”, Red Dwarf. (I can use Red Dwarf quotes all day.)

Airdate: October 27th, 1967.

Written By: Terence Feely

Plot: Six finds himself replaced! No, seriously, he finds himself awake one day, demoted to Twelve. As in, he now has the personality of Number Twelve. Twelve, meanwhile, has been promoted to Number Six – as in, he has the personality of Number Six. This, of course, is meant as an extremely complex game of chess by Number Two, who claims that he wants to break Twelve (who is now Six).

Basically, what I’m saying is, this episode might come off as confusing at first glance. Then again, you could say the same for most of the episodes of this show.

Review:

One of the central themes of The Prisoner thus far is the power of the individual within a society. More specifically, the show demonstrates this by stripping said individual authority from everybody in The Village. Everything within is meant to be for the good of the increasingly milquetoast society – but not the society, the higher-ups who decide what is right and what is wrong. Even the facade of democracy, for instance, is just that – a facade. Contradict the powers that be, and best case scenario, you are replaced. Worst case scenario, you wind up psychologically tortured, broken beyond any sort of comprehension… your personality stripped from you.

And that’s assuming that The Village is insular. Odds are, it’s not – it’s becoming clear that we are dealing with a national outpost meant to hide the troublemakers and saboteurs, or something akin to that. This is a nation likely committing crimes against their citizens for daring to expose their more insidious underbelly. Thus, we get a slow breakdown of the citizen as a result.

Now, what if the next step was to replace the individual entirely – with a body double, for instance?

Welcome to “The Schizoid Man”, part 8 of our 17-part look at Patrick McGoohan’s thus-far epic spy-fi drama.

The idea of body-swapping is rather prolific in all sorts of fiction.  A few years ago, I even compared two somewhat disparate shows, Red Dwarf and Gravity Falls (both of which I consider amongst my favorites), and took a look at their forays into body-swapping. This takes the move a step farther by having the two characters swap positions in society, and therefore, personalities.

Twist the first? Both Six and this Twelve are played by Patrick McGoohan. Actors playing double duty is certainly not unheard of in science fiction – Brent Spiner played Data and Lore in various episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation, while Robert Llewellyn played Kryten and Able in the Red Dwarf episode “Beyond A Joke”. McGoohan is unique in that he is also the creator of the show, although he does miss the treble by not being the writer of the episode (contrast to “Beyond a Joke”, whose first draft was penned by Llewellyn before Doug Naylor tore it apart). You have to figure that McGoohan had in his own mind the gravitas of how the episode fits into the canon and delivered on his performances of the two characters in that manner.

Anyway, the question of this episode is the rather disposable nature of one’s humanity in an autocratic society. That’s certainly not unheard of – indeed, one could argue that is a theme of the entire series. However, this episode really shines a light onto the practices of replacing an individual with another, the mind games played both by the government, as well as the imposter in question… and even the own goals made by the original Number Six himself!

Further, such is the nature of the therapy that Number Twelve was able to out-Six, well, Six himself!

Indeed, this episode allows McGoohan to craft two different interpretations of his character. Six remains his stoic, straight-laced, yet irritable self. Twelve, on the other hand, cuts a slightly looser, more quirky figure. Hence, their choice of clothing during the ensuring battle of character traits between the two characters – Six is dressed in black, Twelve, a white suit.

What is apparent on the Village’s behalf is the ability not to create a man, but recreate him – put him in a different body, give him the same personality traits, same characteristics, and even the same allergic reactions and impulses. On the surface, the Village has made it possible. What they failed to do was recreate what makes men the way they are. After all, the impetus for the entire show is simple… what drove Six to resign from the civil service? And what’s fuelling his attitudes in The Village, towards it, and with the various other residents within? What past experiences have influenced his interactions?

Much as The Village might be trying to break every resident down into a bland, blank slate, boring as all hell, the fact is that most (if not all) residents within have had a past before they were brought to this candy-colored, mostly sunny hellhole. Undoubtedly, their actions in The Village have to be partially influenced by what placed them there, even if years of brainwashing have made them complacent, supportive, or worse, beyond too scared to challenge the status quo. You can craft a facsimile of a human being, but recreating one?

Nice try.

Doesn’t mean they won’t try their damndest, anyway.

As a result, Six has to subvert his own ethos to break this warped cycle. The most famous quote of The Prisoner, the building block of the entire series, is simple. “I am not a number – I am a free man!” He is a man on the quest to assert his individuality (although, thus far, we don’t know his name, only his assigned number in the system). But now even his new identity, one that reduces him to a statistic, is being threatened. To save his own life, he must save his own statistic-hood… if that’s a word. (It’s not.)

He must defy his own identity to rescue it in the long run. To combat the Village, he must appease them… as they commit another round of psychological torture, trickery on two fronts, this time using Six and Twelve. Twelve is but a patsy, in the end – he is used to turn citizen against citizen, captive against captive. It’s a localized scenario, but it demonstrates yet again the ability for The Village to manipulate all in their attempt to play chess against Six.

This time, their attempt to psychologically destroy Number Six almost succeeds. This probably would carry more weight if it wasn’t for the fact that there were 16 minutes left in the episode… and we’re still nine episodes to the end. That said, the way Six recalls his identity is brilliant… faint memories, combined with the reference to personal bodily harm accidentally inflicted on him (which is to say a bruised fingernail that is still growing), combined with a calendar that was never turned… well, that pretty much demonstrates why The Village’s plan was doomed to fail.

There’s a power in the collective, but no matter how strictly it is enforced, no matter what the rationale (for morally upstanding or morally bankrupt reasons), no matter what, it can’t undermine the realities of individual experiences. One can draw broad conclusions based on certain groupings, but ultimately, what we experience on our own terms shapes how we perceive society.

How we react to others.

Indeed, once he deciphers the extent of the game, he proceeds to make his next big gamble – escape. What ensues is probably his most daring gamble – he goes to Twelve’s house, and forces him – first by displaying himself as a breaking man ready to reveal his own rationale for resignation, all before attacking him – to disclose both his name and the password for access to Two.

They are “Curtis” and “The Schizoid Man”.

Also, he sits back as Rover consumes a terrified Curtis, who lets loose the password on two occasions before being absorbed. And, it appears, killed by the absorption. All while Six looks briefly disturbed, but quickly assumes Curtis’s identity.

Two things here. One, this is probably Six at among his most morally questionable. I mean, few would mistake him for a particularly warm fellow based on his actions in prior episodes, but his slight dismissal of Curtis’s death really underscores his more antiheroic attitudes. Not that he’s evil or villainous, but for a man who carries with him the banner of trying to bring down the Village, it does serve to indicate that this is somewhat less philosophical and more personal for him. Not that there are absolutes on either side, though.

That said, being an agent in the British Civil Service meant he probably saw a lot of horrifying goings-on, to the point where getting absorbed by Rover was relatively minor in terms of the psychological trauma. Also, Curtis appeared relatively undisturbed by the fact that he and Six swapped identities, so maybe Six was just focused on returning the favor.

Secondly, for a show famous for keeping the names of its recurring characters obscured, there is a fascinating use of proper nouns within. We have Curtis as the tragic Number Twelve, Allison as Number Twenty-Four (who is apparently telepathic and shares a connection with Six, making her apparent one-off status particularly sobering), and for the first (and apparently only) time in the series, we have the name for Rover given, by Six himself.

None of the other characters get their names revealed, however. Maybe that says something about how those of consequence can be faceless drones, or turned into the aforementioned drones, while those with real aspirations who let their own personalities shine through are damned, tossed aside to the wolves. I suspect that this is more of a coincidence, though. Maybe.

Anyway, what follows is somewhat less impressive – Six takes Curtis’s identity, and uses it in yet another doomed attempt to escape the village. I do admire the rather brazen attitude here, but… I dunno. I know this show’s intended viewing order is completely zonked out, but this seems like a throwback to the earliest episodes. Which, I get it – this episode was produced fifth, and I’m watching it eighth. I guess this is something that I’m going to have to take into account if I make my own personal viewing order.

But this episode does end on a rather sobering note, as Six prepares to make what he hopes will be his escape. He encounters Alison again, and the following conversation occurs:

Alison: I’m ashamed of what I did to Number Six yesterday.
Six: Why are you telling me?
Alison: Everyone has to tell someone.
Six: It was your job.
Alison: It was a betrayal.
Six: Isn’t everything we do here a betrayal?
Alison: It’s not often one gets a second chance.
Six: There are no second chances.
Alison: There are sometimes for the lucky ones. If I had a second chance, I would like you to know that I wouldn’t do it again.

Besides the character motive behind this – it appears to give off a hint to Six that his path to freedom will continue further – it also underscores the true meaning of the episode. Even if we are superficially given a second chance, the mistakes made during our first encounters will forever shape one’s perception of another, and that even expands to groups of people.

And of course, Six winds up on the rear end of that when, before departing, Two asks him to give his regards to Two’s wife. Six agrees… and when he finds himself back on the ground in The Village, Two responds with a rather morose announcement of Six’s failure… “Susan died a year ago, Number Six.” Thus, Six exposed himself as a traitor to Curtis’s identity, as he didn’t have the same knowledge Curtis had.

That is, if this wasn’t a plan all along for the higher ups.

Even then, I do have to wrap this up with a comment on this episode’s portrayal of Two. Anton Rodgers actually plays him as a somewhat more affable, sympathetic fellow. We get an insight into his own past with the reference to his wife, and we get to see him a more composed figure. Admittedly, he is more forgettable than most of his predecessors thus far, but even so, Rodgers does sell him quite well.

And that’s a good first impression, right?

Lastly, what about that title? Schizoid Personality Disorder, to quote the Mayo Clinic, is…

…an uncommon condition in which people avoid social activities and consistently shy away from interaction with others. They also have a limited range of emotional expression.

In retrospect, elements of this could apply to Six himself. He’s a reserved fellow, rather stoic (if forthright), and distrusting of others. He also only reluctantly participates in Village activities. That said, that’s different from really having SPD. As a result, I have to wonder, is Schizoid disorder what the others think of Six? Was that a hypothesis of The Powers That Be as to why Six resigned from his job – a desire to withdraw from society? Or is him having SPD a conclusion they’ve ascertained from earlier examples, such as “Dance of the Dead”?

Regardless, “The Schizoid Man” is an episode which might have the enjoyment therein adversely impacted by when you watched it in terms of the episode order. Having watched it eighth, some of the tropes in this episode might border on cliche, although it might not be so egregious if watched earlier in the run. That said, it’s still an enjoyable piece, mediating on the concepts of the formation of the individual and the ability to be replaced by but a clone, and with some stellar performances from Patrick McGoohan and others. In short, it’s good, but not really as great as the other episodes I’ve covered so far.

Tidbits:

• Not much here, but it is worth noting, the episode makes a brief reference to “The General”, as a figure. Given that the last episode I reviewed was “The General”… again, the episode order I’m going with makes this seem a sarcastic remark.
• Another minor note – with Earl Cameron’s appearance as a supervisor for The Village, this is the first (and apparently the only) appearance of a black actor in the show. The role is rather pedestrian by contemporary standards (especially with the character only having brief bits of dialogue), but within the civil rights movement here in America (where this show was broadcast on CBS) during the 60s, it was definitely an intriguing development to have a black man in a supervisory role. That said, on rival network NBC, Star Trek had Uhura, who appeared in 66 of the 79 episodes, and while her role as communications officer might be seen as relatively minor by modern standards, she did take an active role in some episodes of TOS. Either way, credit where credit is due, given the different standards of the 60s.
• Speaking of Star Trek, The Next Generation would use the title “The Schizoid Man”, with an episode featuring a man who transplants his mind into Data. Sound familiar? Turns out the character of the week in that episode was meant to be played by Patrick McGoohan.

Wrap-Up:

Favorite Scene: I really love the framing of that scene when Six deduces what exactly happened to him, as well as how he pieces it all together to overcome the mind wipe that ensured in the original trickery. Whatever little dialogue is within is economical, and the power is carried by McGoohan’s acting.

Freakiest Scene: I guess the whole manipulation of Six’s senses. That’s just more psychologically terrifying to me than watching Rover consume Curtis.

Memorable Quote: “Isn’t everything we do here a betrayal?” – Six. I think it speaks to the hypocrisy required to survive in The Village.

Score: 8. A rather interesting idea, although the execution could’ve been better than merely “very good”.