Early on, Number 2's insistence that there was no other reality outside the Village reminded me of C. S. Lewis' The Silver Chair, in the Chronicles of Narnia, where Puddleglum the Marshwiggle and the two children Jill and Eustace, face the enchantment of a witch who tries to seduce them into believing that there is no reality except the underground world they are in. In order to enslave she attempts to convince the characters there is no world above the ground and no Aslan, until of course, the noble Puddleglum bravely breaks her spell.  Unfortunately The Prisoner only dabbles with this concept that Lewis handled so deftly, rather than providing clear cut resolution.

Half-way through the six hours of this series, I realized any heartfelt interest I had in these characters and their situation had devolved into baffled bemusement. A series like Lost, which thrives on feeding its audience one mystery after another, evokes curiosity and a sense of intrigue largely because we ultimately care about the characters. They must confront these enigmas which in turn force the characters to confront their own flaws.  But the new Prisoner is as much a mystery to us as he is to himself. As we have trouble relating to the one-note character, his situation lacks larger significance for us.

Only toward the end of the fifth hour did I get a glimpse of where the plot was heading and it still didn't arouse my interest; the show feels more like working on a jigsaw puzzle than following a compelling story.  When the final hour revealed the why and the wherefore of Number 6's predicament, I still didn't quite understand exactly how it all fit.

Of course, the original series' famous ending wasn't the clearest denouement either, but it had a very proactive hero who took action to resolve the conflicts as the audience understood them.  And because the whole series was intended as a vehicle for presenting the anxieties of the age—must like an extended Twilight Zone episode—explaining it all in a totally coherent way was probably impossible.  McGoohan, the primary "agent" behind the series, created a floating metaphor (symbolized by Rover the big round security balloon) to represent any number of ideas.  "I suppose," McGoohan was quoted as saying, "that (The Prisoner) is the sort of thing where a thousand people might have a different interpretation of it . . . that was the intention."   But the plot premise demanded a solution, however flawed and McGoohan supplied one that has kept people talking for decades.  The resolution supplied by the remake only reveals that we have been watching the ultimate psychodrama, only far less entertaining than the original.  There's little real comic relief during the bleak existential crisis of the hero, just the vague idea that it might take a village to raise a people out of their private crises.  If you watch the encore presentations, you'll know what I mean… I think.

You can check AMCtv.com for scheduled encore presentations of The Prisoner, also available on iTunes.

Review posted November 23, 2009