Playing suave, efficient British intelligence operative John Drake, Patrick McGoohan rose to international fame in "Danger Man" (dubbed "Secret Agent" in the United States), the most realistic espionage television series of the spy-crazed 1960s, far more John le Carre than Ian Fleming even if McGoohan had been offered the role of James Bond in "Dr. No." (Obviously, he refused.)
However, McGoohan tired of the ultimately formula role and turned to creating a new approach to what was to him still a fascinating subject, the spy trade, particularly as the Cold War was still in full swing when his new series, "The Prisoner," premiered in the UK in 1967. With its 17 episodes in total, "The Prisoner" was really an extended miniseries and not intended to be a story in perpetuity, but even this relative handful of episodes remains provocative and controversial.
Indeed, debate still rages over whether McGoohan's protagonist in "The Prisoner" is simply John Drake from "Danger Man" (although one "Danger Man" episode, the chilling "Colony Three," does presage the concept behind "The Prisoner"); there is even contention about the "correct" running order of the episodes. However, there is no dispute that "Arrival," written by series' script editor George Markstein and David Tomblin, is the premiere of the premier television spy drama "The Prisoner."
Amidst the fanfare of Ron Grainer's stirring theme music, the expository tableau of how "The Prisoner" came to be that emerges: McGoohan drives to a London office complex, angrily pounds his resignation letter into the desk of a silent, impassive man (Markstein), then drives to his stylish townhouse, where dapper operatives tailing him apply knockout gas and disappear him. (An abridged version of this tableau became the visual component to the intro for almost all subsequent episodes.)
McGoohan awakes in "the Village," a bucolic seaside hamlet ringed by forest and hills ("The Prisoner" was filmed at the Italianate tourist village of Portmeirion, Wales), and quickly discovers that none of the villagers, including himself, are addressed by name, only by a number; his is Number Six, and when he meets village chieftain Number Two (Guy Doleman), you're not paying attention if you don't realize that Number Six must be a very big fish.
In fact, Number Two acknowledges that he has sensitive knowledge that makes him very valuable to other powers, which is why they want to know why he resigned. But who are "they"? Which side is running the Village? Number Six gleans that many of the residents at some point became a liability or a danger similar to him--but for whom were they working?
Following an escape attempt that lands him in the hospital, a result of running afoul of "Rover," the surreal white globes that police the Village, he sees an old colleague, Cobb (Paul Eddington), drugged or delirious, who soon jumps out the window. At his funeral, Number Six meets his lover (Virginia Maskell), who offers him an "Electropass," a device that would enable him to operate the Village helicopter, seemingly the only way out of town. But can she be trusted? Can the fetching maid (Stephanie Randall) cleaning his quarters and laying a sob story on him be believed? Why is there suddenly a new Number Two (George Baker) running the Village? And who is the silent, diminutive Butler (Angelo Muscat) gliding along the periphery? But as Number Six sees written on the wall of the labor exchange, "Questions are a burden to others; answers, a prison for oneself."
Apart from period furniture and fixtures, "The Prisoner" has dated very little because instead of focusing on Cold War mechanics, it delved into the psychology driving it, motives and ambitions and fears and betrayals inherent in human society that are timeless. And it all begins with "Arrival."
However, McGoohan tired of the ultimately formula role and turned to creating a new approach to what was to him still a fascinating subject, the spy trade, particularly as the Cold War was still in full swing when his new series, "The Prisoner," premiered in the UK in 1967. With its 17 episodes in total, "The Prisoner" was really an extended miniseries and not intended to be a story in perpetuity, but even this relative handful of episodes remains provocative and controversial.
Indeed, debate still rages over whether McGoohan's protagonist in "The Prisoner" is simply John Drake from "Danger Man" (although one "Danger Man" episode, the chilling "Colony Three," does presage the concept behind "The Prisoner"); there is even contention about the "correct" running order of the episodes. However, there is no dispute that "Arrival," written by series' script editor George Markstein and David Tomblin, is the premiere of the premier television spy drama "The Prisoner."
Amidst the fanfare of Ron Grainer's stirring theme music, the expository tableau of how "The Prisoner" came to be that emerges: McGoohan drives to a London office complex, angrily pounds his resignation letter into the desk of a silent, impassive man (Markstein), then drives to his stylish townhouse, where dapper operatives tailing him apply knockout gas and disappear him. (An abridged version of this tableau became the visual component to the intro for almost all subsequent episodes.)
McGoohan awakes in "the Village," a bucolic seaside hamlet ringed by forest and hills ("The Prisoner" was filmed at the Italianate tourist village of Portmeirion, Wales), and quickly discovers that none of the villagers, including himself, are addressed by name, only by a number; his is Number Six, and when he meets village chieftain Number Two (Guy Doleman), you're not paying attention if you don't realize that Number Six must be a very big fish.
In fact, Number Two acknowledges that he has sensitive knowledge that makes him very valuable to other powers, which is why they want to know why he resigned. But who are "they"? Which side is running the Village? Number Six gleans that many of the residents at some point became a liability or a danger similar to him--but for whom were they working?
Following an escape attempt that lands him in the hospital, a result of running afoul of "Rover," the surreal white globes that police the Village, he sees an old colleague, Cobb (Paul Eddington), drugged or delirious, who soon jumps out the window. At his funeral, Number Six meets his lover (Virginia Maskell), who offers him an "Electropass," a device that would enable him to operate the Village helicopter, seemingly the only way out of town. But can she be trusted? Can the fetching maid (Stephanie Randall) cleaning his quarters and laying a sob story on him be believed? Why is there suddenly a new Number Two (George Baker) running the Village? And who is the silent, diminutive Butler (Angelo Muscat) gliding along the periphery? But as Number Six sees written on the wall of the labor exchange, "Questions are a burden to others; answers, a prison for oneself."
Apart from period furniture and fixtures, "The Prisoner" has dated very little because instead of focusing on Cold War mechanics, it delved into the psychology driving it, motives and ambitions and fears and betrayals inherent in human society that are timeless. And it all begins with "Arrival."