Tuesday, May 25, 2010

The Prisoner - Recap

So I never finished my Prisoner recaps. Sorry for that. At the very least, the last few episodes are wild and speculative enough that any interpretation I might won't add up to much. There are certain scenes and questions which cannot be answered, and they don't need to be either. Still, this post might have some analysis.

I do want to talk a bit more on my final thoughts on the show. It's been months since I finished the final episode, but I just rewatched a few with audio commentary on, and they provided some insight and observations which have helped improve my interest and appreciation of the show.

There are a lot of reasons to admire The Prisoner, and what I've really come to see is just how lucky we are to have something like it. It was different than most shows of its era, and difficult to write, film, and produce. The fact that it came out at all, let alone managed to be so good, is incredible.

Another point of merit is that the show's subject matter is easy to fuck up. Everyone loves referencing 1984 and Brave New World, and calling things they don't like "Orwellian", but it is easy to miss an important point of these classic books. Orwell and Huxley were against the terrible dystopias they created, but they also emphasized just how powerful they are. Neither novel's protagonist succeeds in the end, and in the case of Brave New World, the only person who really fights against society is someone from outside of it. I find that people seem to cling to stories like The Matrix, in which the heroes are pure and virtuous, being fully disconnected from the societal machine, and having little to no care for the poor "sheep" (or if concern does exist, it is so half assed as to be irrelevant). They like to believe that if they were in the story, they too would be free and enlightened. This, of course, is entirely bullshit. Orwell and Huxley knew that we're all part of society to some extent, and once you're a part of it, it is extremely difficult to break away. The answer, then, may not be to escape and destroy, but to prevent these nightmare scenarios from ever occurring. Most of the supposed "free thinkers" I am referring to are more like the Huxley's character Bernard. He has the ideas, and he thinks highly of himself for this, but he doesn't have the guts to act upon them. In the end, he's a flake who crumbles due to fear and jealousy.

The Prisoner, on the other hand, very much gets the point. For most of the show, we see Number Six find new and more clever ways to try and escape, and every one of them fails. He finally understands that the people behind The Village have influence far beyond it. There is no getting out; instead, all he can do is pretend to play along, while trying to fuck with them in any way he can. In the end, he wins the battle of the minds, but by the end of the final episode, it isn't clear that his efforts have done anything. The Village is destroyed, but there's no definitive proof that Six has escaped his captors for good. The cycle will continue, and escape is likely impossible.

I also found that, despite what you might expect, The Prisoner is friendly to the plight of its victims. Number Six is the most individual of anyone in The Village, and his plight is very much his own, but he isn't the only person who tries to escape or fight back. He often tries to enlist the aid of others who have seen through the lies (none of whom last very long), and those that have bought in to the system are not looked at as sheep ripe for collateral damage, but as people whom are worth saving. He has contempt for those that work towards keeping the prisoners at bay, but both he and the viewer can tell that the people are being trapped by very powerful mechanisms which a single person can't hope to break. In the end, Number Six very much wants to escape The Village, but he also wants to put a stop to it. This level of concern is rare, but it is important in that it shows that while The Village is the result of man's evils, it's success is caused by failings weaknesses of man which cannot simply be prevented.

This brings up an apparent contradiction - in the end, a single man does manage to defeat the system, at least temporarily. The key here is to understand that Number Six is more of an allegory for the human spirit, the fight for freedom, than he is a person that we can hope to perfectly emulate. Indeed, the only reason he succeeds at all is because he is able to learn from the failures of those who acted before him, and because The Village considers him so important that his rebellion is met with only mild punishment. Six is treated specially compared to everyone else, and this isn't because he is some special person. Rather, he is treated as such because he represents an ideal, one that is so powerful that they do not wish for it to spread. In most fiction of this nature, the viewer is tempted to see themselves in the hero, to believe that they too are special compared to the rest of humanity. That isn't the point of The Prisoner; we will never have the constitution or the lucky breaks that Number Six is gifted with. Yet he is someone we should all aspire to be like, because if enough people stand up and fight back, then we can cover our individual weaknesses and work together as a cohesive whole. I believe this interpretation works well with the ending, which shows that, alone, the ideal as man is only able to inflict temporary damage to the system. The only way to truly break it is for people to come together. This sense of inclusion is what makes The Prisoner so powerful and unique. It doesn't tell us to save ourselves and abandon the world, and it doesn't want us to hide behind a mask (which is why I still loathe the popularity of the V for Vendetta film adaptation). We must stand up and make our faces known, but we must do it together if we want to succeed.

A lot of people hated the ending to The Prisoner. Everybody wanted a proper reveal. Who is Number One? What does he want? How is he stopped? These are the questions viewers wanted answered, and McGoohan rejected them all because they were never the point. He wanted it to be an allegory on society, while everyone else wanted a traditional "good versus evil" yarn. If the show was leading up to a proper ending, with escape and victory, it probably would have built up to such an event, with clues and reveals being sprinkled into each episode. As it is, the show has little to no continuity between episodes, and no one can agree on an official ordering. It makes sense that viewers of the time were upset, but in the modern era we should know better. The Prisoner echoes many moderns shows like Lost and Battlestar Galactica, which fail to create a satisfying ending and often fall back to the "story as metaphor" explanation. The difference is that these shows spent several seasons previous behaving as if there is strong continuity and development within the plot, and that a resolution is forthcoming. The Prisoner was victim of audience expectations, but modern shows are victims of trying (and failing) to address those expectations. In my mind, they deserve far less sympathy. McGoohan had something he wanted to say. The writers on Lost simply fucked up.

And so it pains me to see that in the decades since, the TV critics who are supposedly concerned with the quality of modern programming continue to regard The Prisoner as a wacky footnote in the history of the medium. The truth is that it's themes, its tone, and its delivery are all far more powerful, interesting, and viewer friendly than most of today's failed serials. We compare it to so many other works as if they had anything in common, yet if we spent more time looking at what this show was trying to achieve, we'd see just how much different it really was. If we truly learned the right lessons from it, and improved upon its ideals, then I'm sure that TV storytelling would be worlds better than it is now. Like it's main character, the show was merely a dent in an ever moving machine.

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