The first thing I should declare is that in 2023 I published a Prisoner tie-in novel called Unity. This blog references that book because I am writing this opinion piece from the point of view of an author and a follower of the 1967 Prisoner TV series. Here goes...
Those of us who have been fans and followers of the original enigmatic British TV series The Prisoner have a lot in common: we love the 'spy-fi' nature of the programme, adore Patrick McGoohan's portrayal of an angry yet manipulative captive, are intrigued by the Village (Who runs it? Where is it? Why is he there?), and - perhaps most importantly - we're beguiled by the series' ending. Let's face it, after Fallout screened it left us with more questions than answers. And it's those burning questions that have kept the Prisoner momentum going for more than five decades.
Because of the unfinished nature of the programme, followers have never stopped clamouring for more. They want answers, or a sequel, or a film... whatever the nature of the follow-up, Prisoner fans around the world are hungry for some sort of continuation.
And, it has to be said, that has been provided in a wide diversity of media. There are dozens of books about The Prisoner, some of them academic studies of the series, others novels or novellas that desperately try to piggy-back on the original story. There have been comics, parodies, articles, blogs... and of course let's not forget the controversial 2009 Prisoner remake with Sir Ian McKellen and Jim Caviezel.
I, too, have added to the panoply with my own novel Unity: Peace for All, Freedom for None, although rather than being a continuation of the Prisoner story, I tell it from the flipside, from the POV of Number Six's captors. Through its plot, the book therefore answers many (in fact most) of the burning questions the original series left us with. It has yet to gain any meaningful traction, despite getting rave reviews both from Prisoner fans and those who've never seen the programme. (If you want to know more please visit www.unitystory.com)
The latest possibility to get fans excited is a rumoured film based on The Prisoner by Christopher Nolan. If it happens, only one thing is sure: Nolan's version will be breathtaking and spectacular. Whether it will satisfy the disciples of Number Six, well, we'll see. Maybe.
My question though is: do we really need it? Do we seriously need a major feature film of The Prisoner, when all those original actors are - Derren Nesbitt and maybe a couple of others excepted - no longer with us? Their quintessential Britishness added a defining quality to the acting of the day, and McGoohan's protrayal of the mysterious intelligence officer surely can't be topped. The entire zeitgeist of 1967 Britain gave us a fabulous backdrop against which the story played out, and of course there was the uniqueness of The Village itself, admirably provided by Portmeirion, the stunning location in North Wales that served as the location for the exterior scenes.
Yes, The Village is still there at Portmeirion, and is as glorious - if not more so - than it was in 1967, but I fear a director like Nolan would want to eschew it in favour of some other location, or even one created via CGI or even AI. And, just as the world cannot agree on who should be the next Bond, we are all at odds with which actor could possibly step into McGoohan's shoes.
When it first aired, The Prisoner broke new ground for television. It gave us mystery without explanation, confusion dressed as intrigue, novelty in its use of computers and technology, and deep, deep opportunities for analysis, debate and, yes, argument. It's said that after the final episode screened the television switchboards went into meltdown with the sheer volume of people calling to complain about the ending.
There is so much passion for The Prisoner that anyone - myself included - who attempts to add to the canon, treads a dangerous path. Mr. Nolan take note. The original series was unique. It took television viewers by surprise, and delighted them. In show business terms, it's a hard act to follow. Maybe we shouldn't.