Bring Me The Head of Murray Gold!
Oct 23, 2006 · 1 minute readMore later when I can type without serious pain…
More later when I can type without serious pain…
I’ve been watching some of The Prisoner in the last couple of days, after getting the series very cheap from Play. I’ve never actually seen it before, and while I still think the premise is fantastic, the series itself is a little lacking sometimes.
Part of the problem is that the order of the episodes makes no sense. In some stories, Six appears to have been in The Village for months, knowing his way around, but at others, deep into the series, it’s like he only arrived yesterday, meaning it’s difficult to get any idea of progress. This is partly because the original broadcast order of The Prisoner is not the intended order of the series, but at the same time, there doesn’t appear to be any canonical order which solves the problem. Which is a pity, as with a prison breakout show like this, some degree of continuity would be nice (especially with the revolving Number 2s. one of whom makes his second appearance before he makes his first!). Putting all that aside, it is mostly enjoyable; sometimes it strays too far into the realm of indulgence, but again, Six himself is woefully inconsistent. At times, he seems to have almost superhuman intellect, whereas at other times, he’s as thick as two short planks. Take the episode Many Happy Returns, for example. Six wakes up to find The Village abandoned and derelict. Knowing a good thing when he sees it, he finds a cat and builds a boat, sailing off into the sunset. After decking a couple of German gunrunners and depending on the kindness of knock-off Romany gypsies, Six finds himself in London. Now considering that he used to be a spy, that after resigning from his job he was kidnapped and placed in The Village, you would think that he’d know that London isn’t safe for him. But no. Firstly, he goes back to his old house, where we discover that while he can resist all sorts of torture, Six is vulnerable to fruit cake and little sandwiches with the crusts cut off. Then, in a fit of stupidity, he goes back to his old workplace to try and track down The Village’s location. One guess as to what happens when they find it. After that, you do lose sympathy with him somewhat. So far, then: deeply flawed, but I think it’s probably worth following it through to the very end, although I’m told that the final episode is almost complete gibberish.Normally, the bus ride to and from work is a rather uneventful affair. A sleepy climb up the stairs in the morning before finding an empty seat to sleep in; while on the way home, a scramble to find an available seat and a chance to catch up on reading. All is quiet.
Today, though, was slightly different. Our driver, ahead of schedule, and annoyed at several different traffic infractions by cyclists, decided to pull over in the Kidlington layby and hold court. For about ten minutes. We learnt that bus drivers really don’t like being told they’re late by people fiddling with their change, nor people having conversations while they’re trying to find their tickets. This was greeted with somewhat nervous laughter by the bottom floor of the bus, on the grounds that he’s the one driving a rather large double-decker bus, and if he wants to flip out and go all Michael-Douglas-in-Falling-Down on us, then we’re not long for this world. Especially with the bridge we still had to cross. A rather nervous ride back, then. Taken at some speed. Mind you, I had forgotten to bring a new book with me today, so I would have been bored otherwise…I mean, I hate the idea of having a bomb hanging over us, but I also hate the idea of a kid being sent to war and blown away that way.I may have the Smash Hits book. Just mayyybe.
— Gary Glitter, 1986