Episodes
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Introduces us to the man we will come to know as Number 6, and to the place we will come to know as the Village. Interestingly, the stage-setting opening sequence - in which we see McGoohan's character resign, return home, and succumb while packing for an unknown destination - is not significantly expanded from the version that begins subsequent episodes. The tautly edited, through-his-eyes introduction to the Village is more effective than the perfunctory escape plot that follows (although it establishes several important themes, including Number 6's susceptibility to women in distress).A new Village resident catches Number 6's eye. Following an interlude of mutual distrust, she takes him into her confidence, claiming to know an escape route to England. Number 6 constructs a vessel that will get them underway. Needless to say, the journey is fraught with peril. Features Leo McKern in the first of three strong appearances as Number 2; a bizarre, hilarious Village art show; and a wholly unconvincing suggestion of romance between Number 6 and his red-headed co-conspirator.Convinced that Number 6 resigned because he had sold out to an enemy, Number 2 monitors his dreams, hoping that his subconscious mind will reveal the truth. The dream sequences, which become increasingly trippy as Number 6 begins to resist the intrusion on his mind, give McGoohan the opportunity to satirize his own image and the spy genre that made him famous.Number 6 is surprised to learn of the Village's "free" elections. He is persuaded to run for the position of Number 2, only to be brainwashed into the perfect mindless candidate. As powerfully written, acted and directed as any hour of television ever produced, this episode abounds with topical (even prophetic) commentary on the democratic process and its co-opting by the media. It also brims with memorable visual images (including McGoohan's defeated, Christlike pose at the end).In an attempt to break Number 6's sense of self, an identical double takes up residence in the Village and assumes his identity. At the same time, Number 6 is reprogrammed to believe he is a prisoner called Number 12, whose job is to impersonate Number 6. Got all that? McGoohan's dual performance - as Number 6 and the Village's slick, superficial version of himself - is witty and fun to watch. This episode is one of the best examples of Number 6's struggle to maintain his own identity (as opposed to simply trying to escape).Number 6 discovers that a popular new speed learning program is actually being used to control minds in the Village. McGoohan has some excellent lines about the nature of intelligence and expression; ultimately, however, the episode's dated presentation of computer intelligence puts a crimp on the proceedings.On discovering that he is the only resident of a deserted Village, Number 6 escapes and returns to London to confront his former superiors. This episode, directed by McGoohan under a pseudonym, is a remarkable visual document (there is not a word of spoken dialogue in the first thirty minutes). The plot is a dandy, exploring both the question of whether Number 6's superiors might have been complicit in his abduction to the Village and the strange powers of the Village itself. Then there's Number 6's awkward, touching first meeting with Mrs. Butterworth at his London flat...Number 6 gets a taste of Village justice when he is put on trial for the trumped-up charge of stealing a radio. Number 6 spends a lot of time angrily questioning the Village and defending his own freedom in this episode. Mary Morris plays one of the strongest Number 2's of the series, who utters many of the show's most memorable lines, including the telling "We're democratic...in some ways."Number 6 recruits a band of escape-minded Village residents to mount an ambitious bid to be rescued. The life-size chess game that sets the plot in motion is the series' most literal manifestation of the chess metaphor that recurs throughout The Prisoner. This episode reveals the ways in which Number 6 can at times be his own worst enemy: Both his independent, arrogant attitude and his hilarious ineptitude at rebuffing the advances of a female admirer contribute to the ultimate failure of his plans.As an act of revenge, Number 6 systematically convinces a sadistic Number 2 that he is the target of a plot by his superiors. Fans of the show who argue that Number 6 is an extension of John Drake from "Secret Agent/Danger Man" can find evidence for their belief in this episode. The character is in full "spy" mode as he tightens the noose around the neck of an already paranoid Number 2. An unusual episode, in that neither of the show's two primary themes - personal freedom and preservation of individuality - drives the plot; instead, Number 6's actions are driven by a desire to avenge the death of a fellow citizen.Number 6 is recruited to prevent the assassination of Number 2 by an idealistic Village resident. This is an inventive, densely plotted episode with flashes of humor. It includes the first appearance of kosho, the strange acrobatics-meets-martial arts "sport" at which Number 6 apparently becomes quite adept during his stay in the Village.Number 6 is the subject of a campaign by the Village to cleanse his mind of "unmutual" and "disharmonious" thoughts. The plot is a bit thin, but this episode has a number of things going for it: A particularly cold and oily Number 2, a bit of veiled commentary on the use of lobotomies to alter personality, and McGoohan playing Number 6 to a smirky, prankish extreme which hints that the Village may actually be succeeding in its efforts to make him crack up.To track down a reclusive scientist and his mind-swapping experiments, Number 6 is sent to London in another man's body. An interesting, if standard, spy plot is marred by the assumptions and liberties required to make it in work in the context of The Prisoner. While a talented actor, Nigel Stock, who plays host to Number 6's mind in this episode, does little with the opportunity to present an outsider's interpretation of the character. And the revelation that Number 6 left behind a fiancee - when all previous indications had painted McGoohan's character as solitary, even self-absorbed, in his pre-Village life - simply never jells.Number 6 inexplicably finds himself in an Old West town with bizarre similarities to the Village. McGoohan, struggling gamely with an American accent, draws an apt parallel with the Clint Eastwood/Man Without a Name-type character that became popular in the Sixties. Directed with a real flair for the genre by David Tomblin, the episode actually entwined Western violence with political melodrama too well for American censors, who banned it from the airwaves. Their ostensible reason was the use of hallucinogenic drugs, but clearly the real source of their discomfort was the storyline, in which McGoohan's sheriff refuses to arm himself to defend his town. Too close to anti-Vietnam War sentiments for 1968.Number 6 has a surreal storybook adventure as a spy targeted by a beautiful villainess whose father plans to destroy London. This is a lightweight, fantasy-based episode in which Number 6 pokes fun at his captors and McGoohan once again satirizes his own action-hero persona. At heart, however, he doesn't seem particularly involved in the proceedings and, other than the revelation that the Village includes children among its population, this episode adds little to the series' story arc.Number 2 and Number 6 square off in a psychological showdown designed to end in the death of one or the other. The bulk of the episode consists of McGoohan and Leo McKern exchanging rapid-fire dialogue in a locked room; McGoohan's direction creates an enormous amount of tension from this static situation. As the layers of his character are revealed and peeled away, the episode itself becomes a dramatic metaphor for the central enigma of the series: What, if anything, is the intrinsic value of information without enlightenment?Number 6 finally learns the identity of Number 1 and escapes the Village for good... or does he? Virtually a nightmare captured on film, the episode begins as a cerebral set piece and builds to a chaotic, visceral climax. It is so densely packed with metaphors, symbols, and allegory that it is nearly incomprehensible from a narrative standpoint. It's even difficult to determine what might reasonably be construed as a spoiler - we're told who Number 1 is, and where the Village is located, but by the time we find out, we feel much the way Leo McKern does at the end of "Once Upon a Time": Not at all well.