The Prisoner: Hammer Into Anvil (1967)

HAMMER INTO ANVIL First UK Broadcast: December 1, 1967 [episode #10 in transmission order] | Written by Roger Woddis | Directed by Pat Jackson

SYNOPSIS

A young female prisoner, No.73 (Hilary Dwyer, Witchfinder General), is in the Hospital after slashing her wrists. No.2 (Patrick Cargill, Help!) pressures her to tell him where her husband has gone, going so far as to show photos proving that her husband has been cheating. When No.6 hears her scream, he rushes to her hospital room just in time to see her jump out the window to her death. “You shouldn’t interfere, No.6,” No.2 admonishes. “You’ll pay for this.” No.6 only glares at him and says, “You will.” Later, when summoned to the Green Dome, No.6 refuses, and thugs wheel up in a mini-moke to beat him and drag him there. No.2 is wielding a sword. He presses the tip of the blade against No.6’s brow and tells him that one must be an anvil or a hammer, assuring him that he will break him. But after the meeting, No.6 begins a campaign of unusual behavior. In the General Store, he listens to several copies of the same Bizet record, listening to only a few notes of each, checking his watch and writing something down. He leaves a copy of the Tally Ho behind (the headline: INCREASE VIGILANCE CALL FROM NO.2). The store assistant gives No.2 a copy of the paper. In the phrase “security of the community,” No.6 has circled the word “security” and written a question mark above it. No.2 later finds a hidden message written by No.6:

To X.0.4.,
Ref your query via Bizet record.
No.2’s instability confirmed.
Detailed report follows.
– D.6.

No.6 is threatened by No.2’s sword.

No.2, increasingly paranoid that No.6 is a plant, has him watched closely by his right-hand man No.14 (Basil Hoskins). No.6 leaves blank sheets of paper in the Stone Boat, and when one of his programmers cannot find any hidden messages on the pages at all, he suspects the man and has him sacked. No.6 calls a psychiatrist in the Hospital and acts as though he’s in league with him, to the man’s confusion; No.2 has him called in too and hurls accusations at him. No.6 has a quotation from Don Quixote placed in the Tally Ho which translates as “There is more harm in the Village than dreamt.” He puts in a public announcement request addressed “from No.113” wishing him happy birthday and stating “May the sun shine on you today and every day.” When No.2 learns that No.113 is deceased, he suspects the man who read the announcement – the Supervisor (Peter Swanwick) – and has him sacked, too. No.6 even delivers a cuckoo clock to No.2’s doorstep, and a bomb squad called; it turns out to be nothing more than a cuckoo clock. A carrier pigeon No.6 sends is intercepted, and the message it carries is the “Patty Cake” nursery rhyme. When even No.14 is fired under the growing paranoia of No.2, he confronts No.6 in his house. They fight, and No.6 throws No.14 through the window. At last No.6 visits No.2 again in the Green Dome, but by now No.2, who has even fired the Butler, has reached a nervous breakdown. He totally believes that No.6 is a plant sent to report on him, and No.6 tells him that if this were true, he should never have interfered with the operation. He convinces No.2 to phone No.1 and resign.

No.2 (Patrick Cargill) receives a report from the Shop Assistant (Victor Woolf).

OBSERVATIONS

“Hammer Into Anvil” represents the best of the “realistic” episodes of The Prisoner (as opposed to the more surreal outings). This is a fantastic episode, demonstrating how a powerless prisoner can dominate his environment through psychology, inverting the balance of power so that the warden becomes the prisoner. It’s the only Prisoner script by Roger Woddis, who didn’t write much TV but was an accomplished poet and dramatist, possessing a satirical bent and politically outspoken (he was a member of Great Britain’s Communist Party). It’s a showcase for Patrick Cargill, who appeared in an earlier episode, “Many Happy Returns,” as one of No.6’s colleagues, Thorpe. Shortly after The Prisoner he would go on to play the lead in the long-running ITV series Father, Dear Father. I mentioned in my review of “Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling” that a stronger idea for a stand-alone, non-McGoohan episode would be to spend the hour focusing on No.2. It wasn’t until rewatching “Hammer Into Anvil” that I realized this is pretty much just that: No.2 is the main character here, not No.6. Which is perfect, because No.2 is the one being tormented in this episode, and No.6 the authority figure, even if it’s a sustained act of illusion. Despite the very successful humor, this is a rather dark episode. It begins, after all, with a woman – who’s attempted suicide before – now driven to jump to her death by No.2. (Pretty shocking for a TV show in 1967.) Recall that in “Arrival” No.6’s colleague Cobb was said to have leaped from a Hospital window too, a lie to manipulate No.6. Here is the terrible true version, and it drives No.6 into his scheme for the sake of revenge.

Hilary Heath as the tragic No.73.

Cargill’s arc begins as a confident “professional sadist,” as No.6 characterizes him, but he plummets into endless suspicion, firing even the stalwart cast regulars Peter Swanwick and Angelo Muscat, and bottoms out a cringing basketcase before the triumphant No.6. “You didn’t fool me!” No.2 declares in his final moment of hysteria, accusing No.6 of being sent to spy on him. No.6 cleverly responds, “Maybe you fooled yourself?” No.2 requires only the slightest nudge to believe that he could be considered treasonous to the Village, and that his own chance lies in leaving his position. The episode ends on a remarkable moment for Cargill as he gathers himself together, steadies his voice, and says into the phone, “I have to report a breakdown in control. No.2 needs to be replaced. Yes, this is No.2 reporting.” He then collapses into his globe chair, curling into a fetal position, completely conquered while he listens to the unheard authority on the other end of the line. Throughout the episode, only No.14 sees through No.6, telling No.2, “He’s out to poison the whole Village.” But the poison proves irresistible to No.2, and he voluntarily begins dismantling the Village bureaucracy as though following No.6’s every desire. Indeed, No.2 has acted as a saboteur, just as No.6 accuses him.

Refreshingly, “Hammer Into Anvil” features extensive Portmeirion location shooting, blended more seamlessly with the MGM sets than, say, “A Change of Mind.” We get to spend some time in such familiar locations as the Stone Boat and the Village bandstand. We also watch a quick match of kosho (for the second and last time), and pay another visit to the Village General Store, which is now tended by a different Villager than Denis Shaw’s shopkeeper from “Arrival” and “Checkmate.” (This makes sense, seeing as the shopkeeper volunteered for No.6’s escape plan in “Checkmate.” He was probably sent to the Hospital as punishment.)

The Supervisor (Peter Swanwick) has his observers keep a close eye on the Prisoner.

SEQUENCE

My placement of the episode this late in the series owes a debt to the 1987 Six of One publication Village World. In a letter to the author/editor Max Hora expressing his own opinions on the episode order, Trevor L. Ruppe of North Carolina wrote, “No.6 is the most confident of himself here and [“Hammer Into Anvil”] should go nearest the end. This story sees him at his most ruthlessly violent, doing everything he can to break No.2. The Village now realizes that the most drastic measures must be taken…” Although Mr. Ruppe is not the only fan to have come to that conclusion, I quote him here because I’ve been influenced by his letter ever since I picked up a copy of Village World at the Portmeirion Prisoner Shop in the mid-90’s. Ruppe has “Hammer Into Anvil” going straight into “Once Upon a Time,” which makes complete sense, and I preferred sequencing those two episodes as such for a very long time. But I’m going to slot “The Girl Who Was Death” in next instead, for reasons I’ll explain next time.

Still, as Ruppe notes, we can see that the No.6 of this episode is so indomitable that the Village authorities must do something about him once and for all. In “A Change of Mind” he runs No.2 out of the Village with a mob. Now he has manipulated the new No.2 into destroying himself. These must be treated as very late episodes in the series, as they help explain why the Village resorts to the process called “Degree Absolute.”

No.14 (Basil Hoskins) fights No.6 in a game of kosho.

FISTICUFFS

Again, the traditional Prisoner fight scene is used to liven up an episode that’s focused on mind games: No.6 refuses to see No.2, and so the usual thugs in striped shirts take him down. Later a game of kosho provides additional action as No.14 makes it personal.

PROPAGANDA

Signs hung in the General Store guarantee than in The Prisoner even buying a record can seem like an act of Orwellian conformity: “Music Makes a Quiet Mind.” “Music Begins Where Words Leave Off.” “Music Says All.” The joke here is that No.2 desperately tries to read into No.6’s obsession with finding the right Bizet record from a number of identical copies, but No.6’s eccentric activity is actually saying nothing.

METHODOLOGY

No.2 is not the one with a methodology here; it is No.6, who drives No.2 to the brink of insanity by drawing from his years of experience in the intelligence field.

WIN OR LOSE?

Inarguably, a win.

QUOTES

No.2: I want to talk about you.
No.6: You’re wasting your time. Many have tried.
No.2: Amateurs.
No.6: You’re a professional. A professional sadist?

No.2: Each many has his breaking point, you know. And you are no exception.

No.2: Du musst Ambose oder Hammer sein.
No.6: You must be anvil or hammer?
No.2: I see you know your Goethe.
No.6: And you see me as the anvil?
No.2: Precisely. I’m going to hammer you.

No.6: You could be working for the enemy. Or you could be a blunderer who’s lost his head. Either way you’ve failed. And they do not like failures here.
No.2: You’ve destroyed me.
No.6: No. You destroyed yourself.

UP NEXT: THE GIRL WHO WAS DEATH

 

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The Prisoner: A Change of Mind (1967)

A CHANGE OF MIND First UK Broadcast: December 15, 1967 [episode #12 in transmission order] | Written by Roger Parkes | Directed by Joseph Serf (Patrick McGoohan)

SYNOPSIS

Pressure increases dramatically for No.6 to conform. While conducting his usual workout regimen in the forest, he’s accosted by Village thugs who demand, “Why aren’t you using the Village gymnasium?” His answer that he wants privacy results in a fight. The “Committee” is labeling some Villagers as “Unmutuals” and sentencing them to harsh treatments up to and including Instant Social Conversion: a lobotomy. No.6 witnesses Villagers forced to confess their sins before their friends and neighbors at a podium; they’re actually just parroting the words coming out of a speaker. One man undergoing “Aversion Therapy” is locked in a chair and forced to watch images of Rover bouncing toward him, the smiling face of No.2 (John Sharp, The Wicker Man), and the flashing word UNMUTUAL; the man is going insane. No.6’s refusal to cooperate brands him Unmutual by the Committee, and Villagers begin to avoid him. After the Appeals Subcommittee washes their hands of him, he’s lynched and forced to undergo Instant Social Conversion under the supervision of No.86 (Angela Browne). Laser surgery (or a 1967 form of it) is performed on his frontal lobe in hopes of removing his aggression and making him more cooperative, and afterward he’s returned home with a band-aid on his temple. But while No.86 makes him tea, he notices her slipping something in his drink and begins to suspect a trick. He dumps the tea while she’s not looking. No.2 visits and tries to coax No.6 into confessing why he resigned, but No.6 becomes violent and sends him away. No.2 is concerned that his aggression hasn’t been completely removed. When No.86 tries to serve No.6 another drugged tea, he switches the cups. She drinks the tea intended for No.6 and becomes easily susceptible, and so he hypnotizes her and learns that she faked his lobotomy on orders of No.6. He gives her orders of his own. To No.2 he suggests that he give a speech before the Village praising its methods, hinting that he might reveal why he resigned. But during the speech, No.86 is hypnotically triggered to call out No.2 as Unmutual. No.6 helps rile up the crowd, and a mob chases No.2 away.

A prisoner undergoes Aversion Therapy.

OBSERVATIONS

“A Change of Mind” has a middling reputation among many fans, but for me it’s a welcome re-establishing of the show’s core premise in light of other late-season digressions. “It’s Your Funeral,” for example, does not have much to do with the struggle of the individual vs. society, a topic which ironically the Western episode, “Living in Harmony,” covers in depth. This episode is also very dark, with its clinical discussions of lobotomy and the sight of No.6 strapped to an operating table, about to have his aggression and individuality surgically removed from him (or so we think). The Villagers angrily confront and even attack No.6, stampeding him into his “Social Conversion.” As others have pointed out, there is a touch of McCarthyism in the fanatical desire to punish the outsider No.6. Patrick McGoohan’s direction, under a pseudonym, punches up the rather basic story into the bizarre and nightmarish vision of the Village that he gave us in his episode “Free for All.” Even when No.6 walks into the Green Dome for a visit with No.2, a harsh spotlight falls on him and tracks him as he walks back and forth, a subtle but brilliant stylistic choice. The Prisoner is at its strongest when it’s the pop art equivalent of Orwell and Kafka, and “A Change of Mind” helps get the show back on track. It also sets the stage for a larger confrontation between No.6 and the Village authorities. That would be “Once Upon a Time,” an episode which McGoohan had already filmed (it was the sixth to go into production), and which was originally conceived as the end of just the first series. When The Prisoner was renegotiated to a 17-episode run instead of 26, OUAT would become part of a two-part climax to the entire endeavor. So look at “A Change of Mind” as the beginning of the end. You certainly get that feeling with the use of the Butler here. He and No.6 share a few scenes alone together, silently regarding one another, and at episode’s end they are the last two standing. The Butler silently picks up his umbrella and walks away. Soon these two will face the end of the Village together.

In the Council Chamber: No.6 and the Butler (Angelo Muscat).

The original director was to be Roy Rossotti, who was a second unit director on Doctor Zhivago and assistant art director for Lawrence of Arabia. First AD John O’Connor recalled, “I just remember Patrick…coming up to me and saying, ‘Oh, the director’s not very well, he won’t be back after lunch. Can you arrange a car for him to go back to London?’…and going to see Roy Rossotti and saying, ‘Oh, Patrick’s asked me to [get] a car for you.’ I do remember seeing a somewhat distraught young man who then did take the car and go back, or rather leave the studio, and Patrick take over directing… Obviously he was dissatisfied with what he was producing and decided to get rid of him.”A downside to “A Change of Mind” is that it was filmed not in Portmeirion but in the MGM studio’s recreation, with its blown-up photos and paintings of Portmeirion standing behind the actors. This is the episode in which this technique is most distracting, in particular when No.6 is seated outside the Village café. The shadows cast by him and the other actors betray the illusion immediately (the high-definition Blu-Ray doesn’t help). On the other hand, a few pick-up shots in Portmeirion using stand-ins provide some interest, including one conspicuous flub in which you can see a car (not a Village mini-moke) driving by in the background. This was Roger Parkes’ only script for The Prisoner. He would go on to write for ITC’s Man in a Suitcase and many other shows, including Blake’s 7. To his credit, he plugs into The Prisoner‘s obsession with sadistic psychological techniques, including “Aversion Therapy,” and, of course, the last resort of lobotomy. But he also illustrates how members of a society can buy into the propaganda of a regime and punish their peers. “A Change of Mind” has echoes not just of McCarthyism and witch hunts but also fascism – inevitable, perhaps, given the many Mengele-like personalities we’ve been introduced to in the Village and its “Hospital.” No.86, who speaks carefully to the TV monitors while lobotomizing No.6, is just the latest example. (Opinions vary: her stilted delivery during this scene is either a poor acting choice or a brilliant parody of banal science documentaries.)

Angela Browne as No.86.

SEQUENCE

“A Change of Mind” works best late in the season because we see the Village dealing with No.6 in more extreme ways, and No.6 not only retaliating but actually running No.2 out of town. As I mentioned, I see this as being a pivotal story for the series, moving No.6 a significant step closer to the finale. The next episode in my sequence, “Hammer Into Anvil,” makes further strides. No.6 is beginning to dismantle the Village from within, which will push the Village to a crisis point.

METHODOLOGY

The threat of lobotomy is a subterfuge; No.2 is not actually in danger of damaging No.6 (we know this is a point of concern for all No.2’s…No.6 seems to be their most important prisoner). It’s an interesting tactic, almost a short cut: he hopes to convince No.6 that he’s already been broken before he’s broken him, and so learn why he resigned that way.

THE VILLAGE

The Committee and the Council Chamber are almost identical to the Council in “Free for All,” replete with the Illuminati-style pyramid (No.1’s unblinking eye, perhaps). But these appear to be in different places; in the former episode, we are in the Town Hall, but this seems to be a unique location and has its own sign. Someone can correct me in the comments if I’m misreading this.

No.2 (John Sharp) asks No.6 why he resigned.

ROVER

Rover only makes a cameo in this episode, on a video monitor. We miss you, Rover. It’s been a while. Please come back to the show soon.

PROPAGANDA

Posters appear everywhere with the face of No.2, pointing his finger like Uncle Sam with the words, “Your Community Needs You!”

The branding of individuals as “Unmutual” appears to be separate from No.2’s plot and just part of the Village becoming more extreme in its social-pressure tactics. This is the first and last time in the series that this term will be used. It has since been appropriated for the Prisoner news website, The Unmutual.

FISTICUFFS

Typically a big fight scene happens about two-thirds of the way through an episode as a concession in light of The Prisoner’s nonstop cerebral gamesmanship. Here, unusually, it happens right at the beginning. The fact that No.6 is assaulted before he’s done anything wrong highlights the show’s Kafkaesque underpinning…while still squeezing in the requisite action for the network suits.

WIN OR LOSE?

After a rough start, this becomes a major win for No.6, with No.2 departing ignominiously, the Village finally turned against him.

QUOTES

Committee Voice: We deplore your spirit of disharmony.
No.6: That’s a common complaint around here, isn’t it?

No.2: There is a saying. “The slowest mule is nearest to the whip.”
No.6: And another, “He who digs a pit will one day lie in it.”

No.6 (in his speech to the Village): I was a rebel. An Unmutual. Senselessly resisting this our fine community. To borrow one of No.2’s sayings, ‘The butcher with the sharpest knife has the warmest heart.’

UP NEXT: HAMMER INTO ANVIL

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The Prisoner: Living in Harmony (1967)

LIVING IN HARMONY First UK Broadcast: December 29, 1967 [episode #14 in transmission order] | Written by David Tomblin | Directed by David Tomblin

SYNOPSIS

In the Old West, a Sheriff (Patrick McGoohan) turns in his badge to a Marshal seated at a desk. He rides off on his horse, but finds himself accosted by men who drag him to a town called Harmony. The town is ruled by “the Judge” (David Bauer, Diamonds Are Forever), who operates out of the local saloon. The Judge asks the nameless stranger to act as the town’s new Sheriff, but he refuses, only wishing to leave. The Judge asks him why he quit his job as Sheriff in the first place, but the stranger won’t answer. He meets Kathy Johnson (Valerie French), a showgirl at the saloon, and the Kid (Alexis Kanner), the disturbed, childlike gunslinger obsessed with her. While the stranger is held in “protective custody” in the local jail, Kathy’s brother is hanged. She decides to help the stranger escape, but after he steals a horse and rides north, he’s seized by men from Harmony and dragged back. Kathy is put on trial inside the saloon for helping the stranger escape, but he negotiates her pardon by agreeing to become Sheriff of Harmony, which pleases the Judge. With the Kid acting more violent and unpredictable, the townspeople of Harmony urge their new Sheriff to take up the gun and starting delivering justice. But it’s not until the Kid strangles Kathy to death that the stranger challenges him to a shootout, killing him as well as other men serving the Judge. The Judge finally shoots the stranger, and with his death, the illusion bursts: he’s No.6, wearing a headset in a Wild West set occupied by cardboard cutouts. Just over the hill is the Village. He enters the Green Dome and discovers the cast waiting for him: the Judge is No.2, the Kid is No.8, and Kathy – still alive – is No.22. The experiment was conducted using hallucinatory drugs. Shaken, No.6 leaves without saying a word. Kathy begins to cry. Later that night, she visits the saloon set, still dwelling on her time in the world of Harmony. No.8 is there, acting as disturbed as the Kid, and he strangles her. No.6 is also still lingering in Harmony, and he rushes to the scene. No.8 flings himself from the upstairs landing, breaking his neck, and No.2 arrives, shattered at what he sees. The illusion has overtaken reality for these players.

Patrick McGoohan as the nameless prisoner of Harmony.

OBSERVATIONS

This is a marvelous episode, original, raw, and daring. It was one of the last produced, right after “Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling” and just before “The Girl Who Was Death” – three episodes which depart the familiar Village scenery (for various reasons). But “Living in Harmony” stays on-point to the themes of The Prisoner, even while it subverts the viewer’s expectations. Connections are teased: though the title The Prisoner never appears on-screen, leaving the viewer to wonder if they’re watching the right show, the episode nonetheless opens with McGoohan tendering his resignation to a man behind a desk, traveling away, and getting taken against his will to a village dominated by an authority who won’t let him escape. The insistence that he don the Sheriff badge vaguely recalls “Free for All.” The mockery of a trial to which Kathy is subjected calls back to “Dance of the Dead.” And the Judge asks the stranger pointedly why he resigned. Ian Rakoff and series producer David Tomblin conceived of the story after McGoohan said that he always wanted to do a Western. With Westerns being an American genre (successfully appropriated in the 60’s by Italy), “Living in Harmony” was also daring – though not entirely groundbreaking – for attempting a British Western. Contributing to the American feel is the casting of David Bauer, a blacklisted American expat, as The Judge/No.2.

Kathy (Valerie French) and the Kid (Alexis Kanner).

“Living in Harmony” would feel gimmicky if it were only a standard Prisoner in the Wild West, but there’s more on its mind. Unlike any other episode in the series, this is a story about violence. Harmony is a town living under the pall of violence, and the ex-Sheriff, who tries to maintain a peaceful stance, is pressured to use his weapon in response – but, as we see, it comes at a heavy cost. The timeliness was spot on: it first aired in the U.K. at the end of 1967, on the cusp of the most violent year of the decade. During the initial 1968 Prisoner run in the States, this episode didn’t make it to air. Though CBS stated it was because of the explicit reference to hallucinogens, the true reason appears to have been its controversial portrayal of pacifism during the height of the Vietnam War (1968 was the year of the Tet Offensive), and a potential anti-American interpretation of the events in the story. McGoohan’s character, like John Drake in Danger Man, refuses to use a firearm. But eventually his rage at Kathy’s murder compels him to give into his violent impulses. For evidence of McGoohan’s power as an actor, look no further than the scene in which he finally picks up his gun. He walks into the sheriff’s office with his gun hand in a paralytic claw shape as he drapes his jacket on the desk and  washes his hands. Then he reaches for the weapon and we realize his muscles were craving it; the handle fits easily into his taut grip. He satisfies his revenge by winning his quickdraw against the Kid, but it leads to a massacre of a shootout. McGoohan gives us the satisfying Western finale the genre demands, but in “Living in Harmony” it’s also a vision of Hell. This is in alignment with the Anti-Westerns or Revisionist Westerns which began after WWII and continued through the work of Sam Peckinpah and into contemporary film. With its reveal that this has all been a carefully manipulated drug trip, the episode joins the more rare subgenre of the Acid Western.

Tempted by the gun.

Writer Ian Rakoff drew from his first-hand experiences of apartheid while growing up in South Africa in the 40’s and 50’s, as well as his personal experiences as part of a leftist group during that period. Rakoff later claimed he wrote most of the script and that producer Tomblin took his name off unjustly. Regardless of who wrote what, Tomblin does an exceptional job of directing, lending each moment a tense, anything-can-happen feeling only matched in this series by McGoohan’s direction of the harrowing “Once Upon a Time.” A shot of McGoohan burying the showgirl in a cemetery, his stark silhouette standing beside those of the crosses on the hill, is particularly evocative, almost Expressionistic. Though the story is slow to build, the final ten minutes and its quickly unraveling events and revelations make for mesmerizing horror. One can excuse little missteps, such as No.22 getting strangled to death but somehow managing to deliver one last line to No.6., or the fact that No.8’s devolution into the Kid is a little too fast. This is really a feature film’s worth of plot packed into an hour, which provides some weaknesses but also a lot of strengths. Contributing to the episode’s power are two fantastic performances, McGoohan’s and Alexis Kanner’s. Kanner’s man-child the Kid, resembling a Clockwork Orange droog in his top hat and longjohns, is one of the scariest villains of 60’s television. He also gets an amazing death scene. He spins his gun back into its holster with his usual robotic movements, stares passively forward, and then, seconds later, falls over dead. Kanner’s so good it’s no wonder that McGoohan brought him right back for “The Girl Who Was Death” and “Fall Out,” and later reunited with him in the Kanner-directed Kings and Desperate Men (1981). The two actors practiced their quickdraw skills on set as a competition, but one of the great pleasures of this episode is watching them compete as first-class actors.

No.6 uncovers the deception.

The title “Living in Harmony” underlines the impossibility of the nameless stranger to live in harmony with his community. He is constrained to take the role forced upon him (Sheriff) and act as expected (with guns blazing). But by doing this, he destroys both himself and the community. It’s the Prisoner’s relationship to the Village through a glass darkly, and reflecting the greatest theme of the series. The world around the individual is built to crush and extinguish individuality in the name of conformism. “Living in Harmony” is cynical, but the cynicism is part of the series as a whole: consider the program’s original, deleted end credits tag, in which the Earth spins toward the viewer until it goes “POP.” McGoohan’s vision of civilization was one structured for its own destruction as a self-fulfilling prophecy.

SEQUENCE

The Kid is revealed to be No.8, the latest to carry the number after “Checkmate,” “The Chimes of Big Ben,” and “It’s Your Funeral.” Because No.8 dies in the climax, it would probably make logical sense to place this before “It’s Your Funeral,” which features a No.8 who’s just a regular Village observer who might have inherited the number from Kanner’s character. But for our sequencing, we’re almost out of episodes and quickly running out of room; there’s less space to maneuver. With my desire to use “It’s Your Funeral” to separate the non-Village episodes “Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling” and “Living in Harmony”…here we are. You’ll just have to assume that the No.8 in “It’s Your Funeral” was either transferred out or died in a horrible Village taxi accident.

No.8 (Kanner) and No.22 (French) confront the repercussions of their experiment.

METHODOLOGY

This is a very 60’s version of virtual reality, involving headsets, hallucinogens, and cardboard cutouts on a Wild West movie set. Don’t ask for the details on how it worked. The big revelation is intended to be surreal, stylistically invoking the drug trip explanation. This was a show actively engaged in reflecting its times.

ALBERT ELMS

When No.6 emerges from his hallucination and discovers that Harmony is nothing but a set with props, in siren-like bursts through the soundtrack we hear the familiar sound of the Village marching band. At first it’s so brief we’re not quite sure we heard it, then it recurs, and recurs, and finally No.6 looks down a slope and see the Village as we know it. The show has reset itself, the Western movie completely dissolved like waking from a dream. It’s a fantastic moment and draws attention to the imaginative talents of Albert Elms, the series composer, arranger, and musical conductor.

Elms was born in Newington, Kent, in 1920, and played with the Royal Marines Band Service (RMBS) from 1934 to 1949 before working for the music publisher Francis, Day, and Hunter Ltd. He went on to become a prolific composer for television, working on series at both ITC (The Adventures of Robin Hood, Man in a Suitcase) and the BBC (Thorndyke). For The Prisoner, his music embraced McGoohan’s vision of the series as a mid-point between spy thriller and psychedelic pop art. While his fighting cue was jazz mayhem, at other times the music has a woozy, careening quality, like a syringe shot of some terrible Village concoction. Occasionally “Pop Goes the Weasel” creeps in, emphasizing the almost mockingly bizarre nature of the Village and its relationship to the tormented No.6. Elms passed away in 2009 at age 89. His music for The Prisoner has been released on CD, beside the memorable main theme by Ron Grainer.

David Bauer as the Judge.

THE WARDERS

Both of David Bauer’s characters – the Judge and No.2 – see themselves as dealers at a game where the house always wins. Just as the Judge corners the stranger into predetermined actions, No.2 orchestrates the larger story of “Living in Harmony.” And both characters lose control disastrously, underestimating the impact on the lives of the players. For No.2, he sees his players confuse the drug-fueled dream with reality, with No.8 collapsing into hysteria and murder, lost in the role he portrayed.

FISTICUFFS

The Prisoner is beaten up quite often in this one, but none more memorably than the beating he takes right behind the opening title ironically proclaiming “Living in Harmony.”

WIN OR LOSE?

After a number of wins, this is a loss for No.6. The climax measures the damage wrought by his decision to finally carry a gun. The illusory gunshot blast to the face from No.2 signals his final defeat, as he wakes, nearly broken, from his “trip” to Harmony. Yet this is no victory for No.2 either, as he watches the fallout unfold.

Everyone loses.

QUOTES

Kathy: Regulars get the first one on the house.
Prisoner: I’m not regular.

Judge: He’s good. Sensitive. But one of the best.

Harmony resident: Well, stranger? Fancy living in Harmony?

Judge: You’ll find it’s a rough town without a gun.

UP NEXT: A CHANGE OF MIND

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