Review Worst To Best The Prisoner Episodes Ranked

[michaellevenson]

The Prisoner episodes ranked by The Anorak Zone, my ranking included after each episode. No surprise as to the worst, a surprise though for the top episode.

17 Do Not Forsake Me
Oh My Darling
The Prisoner starred Patrick McGoohan as a man who had worked for the state, kidnapped and placed in a bizarre Village where his name was removed and he was given the identity "No.6". His every move was monitored and each week the person in charge - No.2 - would make repeated attempts to break his will and find out why he resigned. All, that is, except for this episode, where McGoohan was away filming the movie Ice Station Zebra, and the bulk of the story is taken up with Nigel Stock playing the lead role after a "mind transfer".
     While The Prisoner - a strange genre hybrid kind of show - touched on sci-fi/fantasy concepts like dream observing, ESP and resurrecting the dead, this might just be the most "out there" plot it ran. The premise is watchable for a lightweight spy drama, but the lack of care that went into making this one really harms it. Continuity between shots, poor stunt doubles and a sequence where grey-haired Nigel Stock driving No.6's car is edited into shots of dark-haired McGoohan doing the same thing are just a small part of the poor production on show.
     It's a cheap filler episode, badly made, which does greatly drag down the overall quality of the programme, and the series would be far better without it. To say nothing of The Prisoner having a fiancé and potential father-in-law/boss, a situation that undermines, possibly even contradicts, what has already been established about the character...
My ranking 17

16 A Change Of Mind
The Prisoner is regarded as a well-made television series, shot on film and with high production values. Sadly, this doesn't always turn out to be the case, and by introducing The Village - an architectural landscape in Portmeirion, Wales - the series is forced to keep filming there, or risk corroding the illusion. While other episodes get round this by not featuring the exterior of the Village at all, save in archive footage, or use alternative, backlot locations to create the illusion of the place, altogether eight episodes use studio-based "mock ups" of the Village.
     This isn't always a bad thing, providing the episode has the invention to get around it, and while episodes like The Chimes of Big Ben have sections that need to be viewed with a kind eye, generally it's fine, usually amounting to just one or two brief scenes. Sadly, however, the two weakest episodes for this are It's Your Funeral and the entry here, which draw attention to such limitations, rather than distracting the viewer's eye away from them.
     This episode did have some footage shot in Portmerion during March 1967, but it was second unit footage with doubles, causing No.2 John Sharp to have about fifty different hair colours when seen from a distance. Clumsily edited, it features a shot of Village guardian Rover so brief that it's often not clear that "he" was in the episode, and it's not altogether clear what's going on.
     All of which wouldn't matter unduly if the plot itself hung together. Featuring No.6 being duped into thinking he's had a lobotomy (which was originally to feature a graphic operation rather than the sound waves used, a gory sequence that McGoohan insisted was removed, along with some kissing scenes) only to find out he hasn't after all. Such a plot is clever, yet also convoluted and something of a non-plot. That it ends with No.2 being overthrown just because someone has been hypnotised to shout "unmutual!" at him in the town square is a very unsatisfying conclusion. Ultimately The Prisoner is a good television programme and a huge favourite here at the Anorak Zone, but there's an argument that it could be even if better if the poor and inessential episodes were removed, and it was just released as a ten-part mini-series...
My ranking 15

 

[michaellevenson]

15 Hammer Into Anvil
Hammer Into Anvil is traditionally a very popular episode among fans of the series; indeed, at date of writing it's the highest-rated on the Internet Movie Database, its 8.8/10 rating just slightly ahead of four episodes scoring 8.7. Yet here at the Anorak Zone it's never been that well received.
     Partly it's how basic and almost childish the plot is... No.6 makes a psychologically weak (albeit sadistic) No.2 break by making him paranoid. This generally involves lots of parlour tricks, like speaking to strangers and pretending they're involved in a covert plot with him, or playing several copies of the same record. If Hammer Into Anvil is a cat and mouse game, then it's strictly Tom and Jerry.
     Patrick Cargill's intense No.2 is regarded as one of the greats, but there's too much contrivance and forced humour behind the part. No.6 notes his weakness when he takes a demanding call (from, presumably, No.1) and responds with a meek and intimidated nature, repeating the words that the unheard caller is asking him. ("Assistance? Oh no sir, I can manage.") There's really no need for him to repeat the subtle threats he's receiving on the line, and he could have asked No.6 to leave the room before taking the conveniently timed call... but without this, there'd be no real starting point for the plot.
     By the time the episode has reached a scene with No.2 stamping his heels and nearly falling over when leaving a room in anger, the role has become less Marquis De Sade and more Norman Wisdom in Trouble In Store. Writer Roger Woddis, in his only Prisoner entry, was more of a poet and stage writer than a television screenwriter, and does bring some literary quality to events. Sadly, though, the execution of this one veers it towards farce, and undermines the real dramatic impact of a usually quite straight-faced programme.
My Ranking 8

14 The General
The General features The Prisoner's silliest ending, a ludicrous sign-off with No.6 blowing up a computer by asking it the question "why?" It's a shame, because the rest of the episode, involving mind control in education, has its moments.
     Like the main computer in Doomwatch, the computer here - codenamed "The General" - became outmoded by Chockablock. It was the 60s, of course, but a lot of the series has technology that wasn't around at the time, including the hand-held mobile phones placed around the Village, which wouldn't exist in reality until six years later. Although the technology had been in development for some years, it hadn't been completed at the time, and McGoohan's double take the first moment he picks up one of the cordless phones in Arrival is a little lost on audiences where the futuristic technology is now very much in the past, albeit retaining a sense of style.
     No official budget was ever released for the series, but by all accounts the entire 17 episode run cost around £850,000. As McGoohan was the highest paid star on television during Danger Man, it's not enough to calculate the inflation and assume that this would, by today's standards, reach around £15 million. While the figure would likely be much higher than that today, The General clearly shows cost saving, with some mock ups of the Village (notably the beach scenes) and some sets doubling for "exteriors".
     The Blu-Ray release of The Prisoner amends some of the slight issues with the DVD, such as Colin Gordon's voice partially appearing on the introductions to episodes in which he doesn't feature. However, on some episodes there does appear to be a slight "flanging" effect with the audio, particularly in scenes involving bands or crowds. It's not excessive, and shouldn't be a deterrent from buying a great set, but is noticeable in small sections of Free For All, The Chimes of Big Ben, A. B. and C. and the carnival scenes in this episode.
My Ranking 14

 

[michaellevenson]

13 It's Your Funeral
The most charming episode on this first page of rankings, It's Your Funeral does once again suffer from being heavily "mocked up" in the studio, with over 7 minutes of footage taking place on sets as "exterior" shots of Portmerion. As with A Change Of Mind, second unit footage was shot in the North Wales location, but with doubles of McGoohan and guest star Annette Andre. Such substitutions fail to convince, and while 7 minutes might seem a paltry amount in this, the shortest episode, it's made far worse by so many of the scenes in question being pivotal, including a fight scene between McGoohan and guest star Mark Eden, which never convinces as being "outdoors".
     Patrick McGoohan had a reputation as a fierce perfectionist, with a huge number of his co-workers accusing him of everything from egomania to undergoing a nervous breakdown. For It's Your Funeral he brought a friend, Robert Asher, on board to direct, with the intention of having him direct further episodes. Asher had worked as Assistant Director on the films High Tide at Noon (1957) and The Gypsy and the Gentleman (1958), both of which featured McGoohan in roles. Unfortunately their working relationship broke down, with McGoohan publicly lambasting the director, then firing him and taking over the shoot himself.
     This wouldn't be the last time that Patrick would fire a director and take over the role, as the next episode in production, A Change Of Mind, suffered the same fate. Don Chaffey, director of four of the first five episodes to be filmed, also had a fractious relationship with the star, and three of the four Chaffey episodes had sequences directed by Patrick, with a fourth, Dance Of The Dead, seeing McGoohan advising on direction.
     The actual plot itself, is, rather like A Change Of Mind, something of a "non-plot": The Village wants to execute a retiring No.2 (Andre Van Gyseghem), so disguise their intentions by getting No.6 to warn him of the upcoming assassination attempt, in order to get Gyseghem to doubt him. The convoluted, semi-credible tale also contains "Kosho", a bizarre "sport" involving trampolines, crash helmets and a pool. Guest star Derren Nesbitt brings fun to his role of the new No.2, despite 50% of his performance being based around his glasses. Nesbitt admitted he didn't understand the script, and, not getting no reassurance from Patrick as to what it was about, played his No.2 as a bewildered man who was in a state of permanent confusion.
My Ranking 16

12 Checkmate
The Prisoner is regarded as an intellectual programme, and so the question has to be asked... just how intelligent actually is the show? Both McGoohan and George Markstein stated that they felt aspects of the series were over-analysed, and that many of the elements given extra consideration (such as Rover) were often just accidents of production.
     Checkmate is arguably the most iconographic episode of the series, possibly due in part to an advert by Renault in the late 1980s that heavily featured a chess board in a homage to the programme. There's some interesting psychology at work in this one, including allusions to Pavlov, which would probably have been lost on most of the general audience. However, it's an episode that squeezes any true symbolism out of the series, whereby the first episode's "We're all pawns, m'dear" had already hammered the viewers over the head with the chess analogy. Checkmate goes one further, taking this "subtext" and stretching it to fifty minutes.
     Peter Wyngarde, over a year away from fame as Jason King, claims McGoohan had considered him as a permanent No.2 after this, the second episode filmed. Sadly, he gets little to do, unable to react much against a more naïve, relatively placid No.6 than that seen in later episodes. The final plot resolution is cute on first watch, though becomes more pedestrian on repeated viewings.
My ranking 12

 

[michaellevenson]

11 Free For All
Free For All was the first of five episodes to be officially directed by McGoohan, albeit two under a pseudonym, followed by: Many Happy Returns, A Change Of Mind, Once Upon A Time and Fall Out. More significantly, it's the first of three to be officially written by the star (followed by the two-part finale), although credited under another pseudonym: Paddy Fitz.
     While the satire that elections are all a sham, and that nothing really changes in regards who is really in power is a good one, it's all made very "surface" in this instalment. The Prisoner is an often-excellent series that doesn't particularly specialise in subtlety, and Free For All, perhaps more than any other, wears its social commentary very much on its sleeve.
     Much more interesting are the darker, more surreal moments, such as the group who worship Rover (as seen in the large image on top of this page) or the Alice-like underground that No.6 is forced into. However, even this is not without its problems... if the Village has a device that can read No.6's mind and tell when he's lying, why don't they just use the machine to find out what they want to know? (An answer is, at least in part, given in Dance of the Dead, where Mary Morris's No.2 notes that he'd die before giving up secrets, but the point still partially stands...)
My Ranking 13

10 The Girl Who
Was Death
A witty and vibrant spoof of all things ITC, The Girl Who Was Death has long been rumoured to be an unused Danger Man script. The reality is slightly different, in that while Producer David Tomblin had originally created it for Danger Man, it was just as a rough outline, and, as he was busy when the idea was picked up for The Prisoner, the task of developing a full script was given to Terence Feely.
     Feely originally wrote it as a two-parter which could be sold as a feature release, something of an odd choice of the production team, as if there's one fault with The Girl Who Was Death, it's that it can't quite sustain its duration. A flip, "comedy" episode, it entertains and has invention... but only up to a point. Although rated higher than some more pivotal episodes like Free For All, it's only "better" as a piece of television in and of itself, rather than as an episode of The Prisoner. While an issue with the series is that some episodes can be a little "samey", this experiment with the form, while entertaining, can be comfortably skipped without missing any of the pure content of the programme.
     One mildly frustrating element of the series as a whole is that Italian actor Robert Rietty performs the voice of No.2 in the mildly corny "By hook or by crook..." opening sequence for many of the episodes. While good in the role, Rietty's performance should only be there to cover for when the identity of No.2 is a surprise twist, as here. Sadly he also performs the task in Free For All, The Schizoid Man, It's Your Funeral, A Change Of Mind and Hammer Into Anvil, all of which had respective actors as No.2 from the outset, and so does smack of penny-pinching.
My Ranking 11

 

[michaellevenson]

9 Living in Harmony
The number of planned Prisoner episodes varies from account to account, largely due to fading memories. In The Prisoner Puzzle, a 1977 interview with Warner Troyer, McGoohan stated that he wanted just seven episodes, with Lew Grade asking for 26 to appease American backers. Differing accounts suggest how the final total of 17 was arrived at – McGoohan claims he managed to get writers to outline them over a single weekend, whereas other accounts suggest that the budget was spiralling out of control and the plug was pulled.
     Whatever the case may be, it's almost certain that Living In Harmony and The Girl Who Was Death clearly wouldn't be part of the "key seven". While not as much fun and not as highly ranked, Checkmate and Free For All would almost certainly have been in McGoohan's mind as the "essential" series, and these two entries just filler. Fun filler, sure, with a Western made with only two Americans in it... and one of those, New York-born Patrick McGoohan, only American on a technicality. While much is made of the shaky "US" accents in this one, credit must be given to No.2 David Bauer, who does a passable English accent when we return to the Village to find out the entire thing is, expectedly, a Village plot. And while the episode plays with standard tropes, credit must go to the strangeness of Alexis Kanner as "The Kid", with particular top marks going to the female scream as love interest Kathy is strangled... which comes from Kanner.
     Living In Harmony has been cited as many things, not least an anti-Vietnam protest, but this was something denied by McGoohan, who gave a rather more simple answer on what it was really all about: "I don't know what concepts the good folks have put on that one, but the reason for that one [...] I wanted to do a western, I've never done one [...] and we were short of a story."
My Ranking 4

8 The Chimes
Of Big Ben
There was a conscious decision when writing this article not to reference contemporary politics. Never mind that the political landscape in 2017 is so crazed even Fall Out seems sane in comparison, or that the titular chimes cannot currently be heard. However, there is a lengthy scene between No.6 and No.2 (the great Leo McKern, in his first of three appearances) where they discuss the concept of an "international community", which No.2 regards as "a perfect blueprint for world order." At the time of filming the European Economic Community was less than a decade old, and it would be another seven years before the United Kingdom would join. No.6 seems very much the Eurosceptic, but a television programme in 1967 observing that "both sides are becoming identical" was quite subversive stuff.
     Overall, this is a good episode, and is so strong it was pushed forward as the second to be broadcast, even though there are clear dialogue passages that contradict this. The plot is well rounded, and it is, like most Prisoner instalments, a well-acted piece of television. On the downside, there are a number of Village scenes that are "mock ups", despite exteriors also being shot on location in Portmerion. This is particularly notable in scenes with guest star Nadia Gray, who never went on location, and so is very obviously doubled in genuine Village scenes.
     Then there's Kevin Stoney's stereotyped Colonel, the biggest signifier of the series' "old school tie" fixations, which may or may not be part of the satire. Stoney is a good actor, and appeared in many cult series, including ones looked at in these articles: Doomwatch, Ace Of Wands, Doctor Who and The Tomorrow People. However, with the almost parodic depiction of an upper class Colonel, and lines like "I'm here to ask the questions, old boy!" it is an unfortunate misstep in otherwise strong entry.
My Ranking 10

 

[michaellevenson]

7 Arrival
As an opening episode, Arrival is terrific television. The Prisoner is fundamentally a silly show, of course, featuring a group conducting covert surveillance on an experienced spy by following him around with revolving statues with glowing eyes. Many aspects of the series are melodramatic and over-the-top, and the style of the show, while holding up quite well in the present day, is still quite dated. This is, after all, a series where the hero has home décor that would put most peoples' elderly mothers to shame... John Steed never began a mission walking past two brown china dogs.
     Yet despite this, it's still, at its best, a brilliant programme. Criticisms aside, every episode on these last two pages is a fine work, and, while the series might be even better-regarded if at least a couple of the episodes on the first page had never been made, it's still an outstanding work overall. Despite being utterly absurd in many ways, when the programme is on, it draws you in, and establishes its own world and identity. This is a series so unique it's even known for its typeface, a somewhat serious programme where weather balloons are the object of menace. If there's one small detraction from Arrival – an excellent episode which could be ranked higher – it's that the final act, with a failed escape attempt, does feel a little "tagged on" and flat. But as a work to introduce the series and its core values, this is first rate.
     George Markstein was the script editor of the programme's first thirteen episodes and also, famously, the man behind the desk in the opening title sequence. Both Patrick and Markstein claimed responsibility for creating the series, and their working relationship deteriorated to such a point that Markstein left after production ended on the thirteenth episode to be shot, Many Happy Returns. What was shot after Markstein left the programme was very different and far more surreal than what had come before: Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling, Living In Harmony, The Girl Who Was Death and Fall Out.
     Although Markstein worked with writers and suggested stories (he regarded his role as more "story editor" than script editor) Arrival was the only episode where he was actually credited as writer. Written with producer David Tomblin in a month (McGoohan, in contrast, would write his scripts in around 36 hours each) it had additional material, uncredited, by Patrick McGoohan, and released under the working title "The Arrival". Markstein and McGoohan's differing takes on what the programme actually was also cover whether the series should be regarded as a sequel to McGoohan's starring vehicle of Danger Man. Markstein was adamant that No.6 was John Drake from Danger Man, and claims that Patrick only claimed it wasn't the same character to avoid paying royalties to Danger Man creator Ralph Smart. Certainly, the series has an extra "meta" element via the Danger Man association, whereby each week McGoohan's publicity shot from the series would be crossed out and filed in a cabinet marked "Resigned".
My Ranking 7

6 Fall Out
It's arguable whether or not Fall Out jars with the rest of the series: certainly, while the first 16 episodes clearly had layers of metaphor and social commentary that can't be denied, Fall Out abandons the backbone of the narrative almost entirely, pushing the programme into full allegory. George Markstein regarded the finale as pantomimic and self-indulgent, while Patrick admitted he hadn't got a clue who No.1 actually was until he was a third into writing the episode. The Prisoner was a series rushed into production before all the scripts were completed, and, while it's often regarded highly as "concept television" and "art", the uncertain nature of events do show when it's watched in rapid succession.
     It's perhaps this full embracement of the show's pop art aesthetic that inspired so many musicians to homage the series since it ended, from a wide range of genres, including Iron Maiden, Howard Jones and the Manic Street Preachers. Perhaps most interesting are the bands that actually referenced the series in their videos, such as Supergrass's "Alright" and XTC's "The Man Who Sailed Around His Soul", both of which were filmed in Portmerion with props and costumes, the latter even using clips from the programme. Probably the most notable of all was the 1982 single "See Those Eyes" from the band Altered Images, which once again saw Portmerion filming and props from the series, but also saw lead singer Clare Grogan acting out the opening moments from the title sequence, complete with gas through a keyhole.
     Fall Out might be a truly great episode of The Prisoner, or it might be the indulgence that Markstein claimed it is... it might even be both at the same time. It's the wrong way to end a series, and so, in effect, becomes the right way. Having a spy adventure/SF hybrid series conclude as a surrealist musical was a huge left-field decision, and one which, with its impenetrable, absurdist twists, left TV audiences enraged. Its mere existence ensures that the series as a whole has become a work to be debated ever since.
My Ranking 5

5 Many Happy
Returns
Watched in sequence, Many Happy Returns is a staggeringly predictable episode of The Prisoner, though may not have seemed so at the time. Produced thirteenth (though always scheduled to air before Once Upon A Time), George Markstein expressed his belief that the series should have continued for a second season of thirteen episodes, probably based outside the Village. Whether such a decision would have worked is entirely open to question, as in the end event, Markstein left after this one was made and the entire programme was wrapped up with four more episodes.
     What makes this one rate so highly is not just the excellent production, featuring a return to Portmerion filming, nor the slightly experimental tone, where it's almost halfway into the episode before a word of English is spoken. It's also the psychological cruelty underpinning the entire venture. No.6 believes the entire Village has been abandoned overnight, and spends almost a month sailing back to England, almost starving and being drowned along the way, only for the machinations of a kindly "stranger" and former colleagues to place him right back in the Village in time for his birthday.
     Such a final twist might not have been so staggeringly obvious on first run, where viewers may not have been aware it wasn't the last episode, but do drag the episode down when watched as part of the set, where only the truly incredulous wouldn't have seen that ending coming. But for the most "straight" episode of The Prisoner, where it's more Markstein's spy thriller, rather than McGoohan's SF allegory, what stands out is the abject cruelty involved. No.6 is allowed to think he's escaped, only to find that former friends and a (naïvely) trusted stranger have placed him right back where he started. And all just to mess with him. A spirit-dampening episode, where perhaps only events in Dance of the Dead have shown the Village being more cruel.
My Ranking 9

 

[michaellevenson]

4 The Schizoid Man
The Prisoner wasn't broadcast in a conventional manner, instead being aired in different orders around each ITV region, sometimes weeks apart. As a result obtaining accurate viewing figures was even more difficult than usual, and estimate audience figures had to be assembled. At its lowest, the series brought in 7.3 million (for Do Not Forsake Me Oh My Darling) and reached its peak here, with a collective 11.7 million ITV viewers tuning in for The Schizoid Man. Altogether the series averaged a healthy 9.62 million viewers each week.
     The Prisoner was officially the work of just 11 writers, with Terence Feely (The Girl Who Was Death) turning in this intriguing doppelgänger tale. The split-screen technique was nothing particularly new, having first been devised before 1900, but it works surprisingly well here. With the series released on Blu-Ray in 2009, then the difference in image quality is stunning. The entire series was shot on 35mm film, so it should come as no surprise that the image density achieved is better than ever before. This vast improvement - the opening scenes of Arrival in the shop are particularly good - does, sadly, mean that some of the poorer aspects of the show are also thrown into greater focus. Action scenes involving stuntman Frank Maher doubling for McGoohan are now incredibly obvious, as are some (not all) of the wires pulling along Rover. However, while there are some shaky moments - and the effect used was never seamless, even on VHS - the split screen effect in The Schizoid Man stands up remarkably well.
     But what really makes this episode work is the intrigue of its central conceit: with a double brought to the Village as "the real No.6", McGoohan's retired spy finds himself, for once, trying to prove that he very much is a number, spending the episode asserting his right to be regarded as No.6. The episode has its darker touches of psychological conditioning, whereby the turning point and high moment of heroism sees No.6 having to give himself a potentially fatal electric shock in order to break the conditioning.
My Ranking 2

3 A. B. and C.
One of the most striking things about the series is its music. The theme by Ron Grainer is, like the series, full of bombast and urgency, and draws the viewer in. Then there's the incidental music. Three music editors were credited throughout the series, and the music editor of A. B. and C., Eric Mival, was the most prolific, performing the role on a dozen other episodes.
     If watched in quick succession, the overuse of some music cues can become a little repetitious, but most of the music composed for the programme, while sometimes intentionally old-fashioned, can reward. A. B. and C. is The Prisoner at its "fight to a bongo riff" best, but the eerie stings, while not unique to here, are engrossing.
     What's surprising is how much of the series has music that wasn't especially recorded for the programme, but instead sourced from the Chappell Recorded Music Library, a company that recorded music for purchase. Because of the nature of this arrangement, some of these pieces may as a result be heard elsewhere, such as "September Ballad" from Fall Out also turning up in the Sylvester Stallone movie The Party At Kitty and Stud's.
     A. B. and C. contains possibly the most triumphant moment in the entire series, as No.6, aware that his dreams are being manipulated by the Village, turns it all against them for a "dreamy party". The music used for this sequence, "Bienvenue Mister Jones" was recorded by the Jean-Claude Petit Et Son Orchestre in France and written by Jack Arel as part of the Chappell Catalogue. That this piece - which fits so perfectly with the scene - was never specifically recorded for The Prisoner is a matter of some astonishment.
My Ranking 1

 

[michaellevenson]

2 Once Upon A Time
As the series is now older than fifty years in production terms, naturally more and more of the cast involved have sadly passed away. Patrick McGoohan himself died in January 2009, aged 80, making Once Upon A Time the first episode with no surviving cast members.
     The episode is generally a two-hander between McGoohan and a returning Leo McKern, with assistance from Angelo Muscat as the enigmatic, silent Butler. Most tragic of all was Peter Swanwick as the Supervisor, who died less than a year after the series wrapped due to heart complications, aged just 46. Two supporting actors (including John Maxim, who played No.86 in deleted scenes) are also sadly long deceased.
     There's perhaps a certain undergraduate quality to the script by Patrick McGoohan, with No.6 being taken through the seven stages of man in a psychological battle with McKern's No.2. However, while it may be a little hard to take for audiences not thrilled by nonsense associations and theatrical intensity, it's a piece of television that has the dubious distinction of being lauded by the two stars being pushed towards nervous breakdowns. With McGoohan also directing, the intensity of the situation caused McKern to spend several days off work, reputedly broken, while McGoohan himself had reportedly long been on the verge of psychosis.
     Although McGoohan regarded Leo McKern as a "good friend", McKern described Patrick in interviews as a "dreadful bully". Almost every line out of McKern's mouth sounds like the most quotable piece of television ever made, and the uncomfortably intense climax still retains its power.
My Ranking 6

 

[michaellevenson]

1 Dance Of The Dead
The Prisoner isn't an especially female-orientated show, a world where Patrick McGoohan insisted on "no kissing" in the scripts, and most of the female characters are there to be imperilled, or, more often, to be treacherous and untrustworthy. This particular episode contains No.6's observation on discovering a cat belongs to No.2: "Never trust a woman.... even the four-legged variety." It's a shame, because Dance of the Dead shows just how good the show could have been with more developed female characters... even though Mary Morris's superb No.2 was originally written as a man, before Trevor Howard dropped out.
     One of the big debates surrounding the series is what order it should be watched in. The opening episode and the final two-parter aren't up for debate, but most of what came in between was broadcast as a result of networks demanding completed product, rather than any logical, intended order. Many different episode orders are suggested, and this site's Prisoner microsite has its own, carefully-worked out viewing order.
     The problem of such a policy is no better illustrated than with Dance Of The Dead, an episode hurt more than any other by being broadcast out of sequence. Intended as a possible second episode, McGoohan was not satisfied with the original edit, and ordered it shelved. A second editor later asked for McGoohan's permission to have an attempt at compiling a working print, which was used, but then broadcast later as the eighth episode - making a nonsense of all the references to No.6 being "new". Seen early in the run and the real strength of this dark tale comes through... seen later, and it's clouded by incomprehensibility.
     The original ending, as scripted, was due to feature a slightly more hopeful tone, as No.6 would have answered No.2's line of mockery with "But rewarding, old chap. Being dead does have its advantages", before smashing the Telex machine and asking a girl to dance. The downbeat ending used is, instead, far superior, with the series at its best when it truly captures the sinister side of the Village. Fifty years on, some episodes naturally stand up better than others, with some genuinely disturbing while others are rather more standard ITC fare. The Prisoner's finest episode captures the true sense of threat and desperation inherent in the format, with chilling scenes where an old friend of No.6's has been lobotomised, and a brainwashed crowd is urged to execute No.6 by their bare hands. A classic.
My Ranking 3