As usual, if you are reading this on Facebook, please go to my blog directly as this blog entry has video embeds. Thank you.
I was scouring Youtube the other night and stumbled across a rare interview that Patrick McGoohan (the titular tour de force behind The Prisoner) did in 1977. It is in four parts that run about 40 minutes and the quality is what you’d expect from a VHS recording, but it is an interesting look not only behind-the-series itself but on McGoohan’s views of society in general.
A warning for those of you who haven’t seen The Prisoner: there are spoilers here regarding the series’ finale—actually, finale isn’t the right word to use regarding The Prisoner‘s last episode, so let’s just get that out of the way right now.
Anyway, for your consideration…
I do happen to agree with McGoohan’s assertion that progress, or what passes for progress, is the most dangerous issue that humanity faces. There are many valid points here that are worthy of debate, such as his observation that there has not yet been a weapon created by man that hasn’t been used. We already know about the ciphering of the citizenry—with everyone assigned with a number (or, in today’s world, countless numbers)—and we know of the horror of nuclear and, to a lesser extent, biological weapons. Ergo, we should all be very fearful of what is to come, unless we take care and control of our actions as a species.
You may not agree, but at least watch the above videos, and feel free to discuss as I intend on writing more on these topics in the future.
For those of you getting this feed syndicated through Facebook, please note that none of the Youtube embeds will actually show up. That’s why you need to click here to see this post as it is meant to be seen.
Having nearly completed running through my new Farscape complete series box set (I purchased it from Best Buy, as they had the limited edition with The Peacekeeper Wars included), I’ve been a bit inspired to find some of my favorite scenes from the show.
However, I was sidetracked. Somehow, my brain made the connection that Farscape was briefly parodied in Stargate SG-1‘s 200th episode, entitled (and this is a stellar episode title, by the way) “200.”
That clip is below. (It helps that by the 10th season, the series’ two leads were Ben Browder and Claudia Black.)
And here is another clip as well from that same episode, thistime parodying Star Trek. The commentary that happens after this interlude, and is included in the video below, breaks the fourth wall… even if Ben Browder’s delivery is a bit iffy and the dialogue is stilted. (Basically, I feel that the writer of the episode is using his character, Cameron Mitchell, as a puppet… but you are free to disagree.)
I figure that I’m posting this as an insight to how the fandoms that I am a part of (or apart from, as I’m not really into any fandom, even Battlestar‘s) tend to form a type of network, connected by the most interesting of connections.
That, and the above clips convey so many different ideas that I can use as inspirations for other blog entries… And so can you, if you start your own blog, where I can read your rambling.
If only because I need something to do before the singularity explodes.
Today’s blog post was to cover my thoughts on the closing of a local bookstore. Those thoughts shall be relegated for a post tomorrow, a post that will already be written sometime shortly after I’ve posted this one.
So let’s begin. I awoke this morning to find that a core theme of mine manifested itself. I’ll give you five cubits to figure out which theme it is.
One was in the form of a private message from the Quorum, The Colonial Fleet‘s message board; I received a message from one of the kind prop replica makers there, who went out of his way to thank me for creating the Battlestar Wiki. It made my morning when I read it, if only because it is a testament to a resource that I and many, many people worked on over the past five years to create and maintain.
The second was the discovery of a very interesting fact. It is a fact that was revealed when I posted yesterday’s blog about the Battlestar schwag—Dr. Kevin Grazier was never given a copy of the Battlestar Galactica Cast & Crew Yearbook.
It is a discovery that disturbs me a bit, seeing as I had received one with thanks to my friends at NBC Universal, Propworx, and the former Battlestar production office in Vancouver. When I received my copy, I had been informed of the following: it was one of the last copies up in Vancouver not given to anyone, and that everyone who worked on the series received one. Given this information, I’m a bit distressed to just find out more than a year later that Kevin seems to have been overlooked. Honestly, my involvement on Battlestar is not to the extent of Kevin’s and, let’s be honest, he had far more to do with shaping the show than I (or anyone connected to the Wiki, really) ever did.
So before I received a copy, Kevin should have received one. That would have been logical, fair, and… look, the human factor throws all that out the airlock. Whoosh!
I’m not blaming anyone for this oversight, because these things do happen. However, since we know that the issue is present and I feel that it should be corrected, I’m going to at least open my mouth about it—if only in the hope of the right person at the right place, and at right time, becoming aware of this and having the power to fix it.
So, for those of you who read this and have any worthwhile connections at NBC Universal, please make it so that a book ships to Dr. Kevin. There might be an extra one lying around somewhere. Also, if someone is thinking of selling their copy, please strongly consider sending it to Kevin.
Let’s make this happen. Call it a late Christmas present, if you’d like. So say we all.
The original Twilight Zone remains one of the best examples of scripted television to this day, featuring some of the most memorable characters ever to be seen on television for the past 50 years. If you’ve ever watched any current show on television, from The Simpsons to The X-Files or even flashes of current science fiction television, you can see the imprint that Twilight Zone has left on American television, and referenced in stories told throughout the years in magazines, books, and other printed media.
Surprisingly, I haven’t been able to find a definitive (or even a meaty partial list) of references to The Twilight Zone.
As an aficionado of science fiction and of the craft of story telling, I find myself compelled to watch a heaping of The Twilight Zone at least once a year. With this being the case, I find that I am riveted to the television screen, particularly around New Year’s when I am planted on a couch in front of a television watching Syfy Channel. (I find myself still disliking the name, but I will admit that the name change has been successful for the channel, which has been struggling to change is identity for some time. From a realist’s standpoint, I agree with the change… and this is from a guy who doesn’t like the slang “scifi” to begin with.)
I’ve listed a number of my favorite episodes here, for those of you who don’t have the time to watch the five years of the series. Ignore the number order, as it’s what comes to mind when I skim over this list.
Kids in science fiction are akin to oil and water. If you want to know why, it’s because child actors who can actually act are rare. Or, in the case of actors like Wil Wheaton, kids are badly written by people who do not grok childhood, ergo Wesley “Superboy” Crusher from The Next Generation. However, young Bill Mumy had the odd quality of actually scaring the shit out of people, particularly in this memorable Twilight Zone episode where he plays a brat who gets his way… otherwise, he wishes you and your little dog to the cornfields. (For the record, Mumy appeared in two other episodes: “In Praise of Pip” and “Long Distance Call;” the latter is worth viewing, as well.)
If this episode were remade today, it would leave nothing to the viewer’s imagination. Instead, such makers would “amaze” us with visuals of “the cornfields,” and so warpedly pervert the “Jack in the Box” scene near the final act that the reaction from audiences would be “ooh, even with the blood, maggots and gore, it’s still not scary enough.”
It needs to be said that the “Jack in the Box” has neither blood nor maggots, and ergo no gore, as the only thing you saw of the box was the shadow on the wall and the reactions of those present. Much of the fear that is palpable in this episode is generated by the actors’ facial ticks, mannerisms, and delivery. For this now-a-days defiant act of brilliance, this storytelling ability is something that filmmakers and playwrights should learn from, practice, and execute.
Ed Wynn and Dana Dillaway in "One for the Angels."
This episode is particularly touching, in that an honest salesman makes the sales pitch of his life… with a positive result. It is a feel-good installment where you can love the participants, and the “bad guy” (let’s say he’s an angel, of a kind) is not evil. If you told this story today, people would lament about its lack of grit and that “it could have been darker.”
It’s a fairly straightforward story with a colorful protagonist, but a wonderful story nonetheless.
Scene from "The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street."
A classic episode about the danger of fear and the need for logic. This episode played off of the Cold War fears of the time, pitting neighbor against neighbor as they lash out in fear of whom (or what) disconnected their neighborhood from the rest of the world. For those of you familiar with recent television, I would say Jericho‘s existence is due to this very episode. Recommended viewing, since we all need a reminder about the dangers of hysteria.
Jack Klugman and Mary Webster in "A Passage for Trumpet."
A down-and-out trumpet player seeking solace in alcohol—wonderfully portrayed by one of my favorite actors, Jack Klugman—has lost all faith in himself, sells his trumpet, and then is a victim of a car accident. Recommended viewing for when you need to rediscover your faith and realize that the world is what you make of it.
As “Gabe” said, “You take what you get and live with it. Sometimes it’s sweet frosting, nice gravy. Sometimes it’s sour, goes down hard, but you live with it.”
Burgess Meredith as Henry Bemis, charter member of the fraternity of dreams.
Another classy actor by the name of Burgess Meredith portrays Henry Bemis. Mr. Henry Bemis is a bank teller with thick glasses, love of the written word, surrounded by those who have no love of said beauty and married to a despicable woman of the four-legged variety. Even if you haven’t entered The Twilight Zone as a mere spectator, you’ve likely seen him before, as this story has been the subject of many parodies on both The Simpsons and Futurama.
While the episode requires leaps in logic and some detachment from science, the story is able to hold its own and addresses many issues that resonate even today in our gadget-infested world.
We may need this story to occur in reality, given the mutilation and disgusting perversion of the holidays by those who would seek to have us “lowly forms of life” (see: “consumer,” “bottom feeder,” and “mindless drone”) squabble over deliberately-limited amounts of Nintendo Wiis, Tickle-Me-Elmos, gadgets and other garbage. Such garbage that is, invariably and without fail, worthless to the pursuit of the human condition.
This is about an out-and-down department store Santa Claus who discovers that he can be a bringer of joy and wonder after all, after finding that his sack actually has goodies that his recipients most desire. It is an episode that I, on another level entirely, do not care for as the insinuation that objects, gizmos and physical nonsense are the only things capable of evoking happiness during the holidays.
Burgess Meredith as the theistic librarian awaiting his fate in "The Obsolete Man."
This is a story of a dystopia where a theistic librarian, portrayed by Burgess Meredith, is seen by a totalitarian government as obsolete, for both literacy and religion have been abolished by the State. Facing death, he is given the choice on the method of execution, and it is within that request where he makes his final stand.
I’ll be honest here: If I am to go out of this world in a manner of my choosing, I’d choose the method the librarian uses here.
Jonathan Winters and Jack Klugman in "A Game of Pool."
Again with a story featuring Jack Klugman… There is a reason why he was one of two actors who have had multiple appearances during the run of the original Twilight Zone.
This story is about Jesse Cardiff (Klugman) whose only life has been in the pursuit of being the greatest billiards player to have ever walked the Earth, if not for being overshadowed by the late Fats Brown (Jonathan Winters). Alone in a billiards hall during the night, Cardiff meets up with his match: a very deceased, yet corporeal apparition of Fats Brown. The game has high stakes. More so than Cardiff counted on, and what most people would likely suspect when watching this episode.
While not the preferred ending by the original writer—as this is one of a few stories redone by the various iterations of Zone—it’s still a great story about the consequences about trying to be “the best” in anything while ignoring everything else of consequence.
Commander Stansfield (Robert Lansing), returning to Earth after 40 years," without the use of suspended animation.
It’s a story about a forgotten space explorer and about love that isn’t viable. It’s something I can relate to, and I’m at a loss for any more words than that, if only since it has been a while since I’ve seen this episode. Oh, and for you Trekkies, Robert Lansing played Gary Seven in the classic Star Trek episode “Assignment: Earth.”
Leonard Nimoy as a WWII soldier in "A Quality of Mercy." Look, no pointed-eared freak here.
If you’re a Dean Stockwell fan, then this episode is for you. Our Number One brother with an admiration of the female form, John Al Cavilicci, portrays a soldier who happens to be on both sides of a WWII battle in the Philippines. In one instance, he is Lieutenant Katell, a gun-ho US Army officer who orders his war-weary men to attack a detachment of Japanese soldiers; in another, he is Lieutenant Yamuri, one of the Japanese soldiers in the cave that Katell wants to assault.
Jamie Tennyson (Liam Sullivan) finds himself agreeing to a bet he is unable to refuse out of necessity: for $500,000 this otherwise talkative man is to remain totally silent for a period of one year. During this year, he is to remain under observation in a room that has been wired for sound recording, so as to ensure that Tennyson keeps his end of the bargain. It is a test of character that has its consequences, in good Twilight Zone fashion.
Joan Hackett and Barry Morse in “A Piano in the House.”
As a fan of Barry Morse, his only appearance in The Twilight Zone thrills me, particularly when his character is pitted against a piano that can reveal the true nature of a person. It is an episode worth watching, as it is very much a character-driven play that puts most current television to shame. I do wish such a piano existed, for it would force us to face our own true natures, and test the loyalty and honesty of those around us.
Runners Up
A handful of worthwhile episodes I will note, if only briefly (descriptions and spoilers at the link via Wikipedia):
Having downloaded the PDF for The Prisoner comic, an 8-page comic made available at the San Diego Comic Con that sets up the events of AMC’s 6-hour miniseries in November 2009 (starring Sir Ian McKellan and Jim Caviezel), I feel decidedly underwhelmed.
I will say that I recognize the comic as a piece of promotional material. A teaser meant to whet the appetite, which in itself is no better and, let’s hope, no worse than that “Last Supper” business NBC Universal and the people behind Battlestar Galactica shoved down our throats.
Without spoiling it for you, the comic denotes a completely different direction from its original source material, which… might be a severe mistake. The penultimate fait accompli of this remake, if you will.
The point of the series is this: an extremely valuable unnamed intelligence agent with a promising career suddenly, and without warning or any apparent rationale, suddenly resigns. After resigning, he is abducted and finds himself in a place called “The Village,” where he is subjected to various attempts to extract the reason for his sudden resignation, which he doesn’t care to disclose. There is also the question of which side “The Village” operates for and, while very much a prison of sorts, it is impossible to tell who are the prisoners and who are the wardens. Also, everyone The Village has a number. The unnamed prisoner, the protagonist of the story, is called Number 6. (To answer your question: Yes, this was the origin for the name of that blonde number with the glowing spine from that television show with the ship that looked like a cross between a ribbed prophylactic and an alligator on skis.) More often than not, the antagonist is a person referred to as Number Two, who apparently runs The Village. In the original 1967 series, the Number Two would often be a different person, mostly a man, and sometimes a woman.
Now, in the series, 6′s mental faculties are undamaged, despite repeated attempts to warp his mind. However, in the new mini-series, it appears that The Prisoner has experienced memory loss, which is (according to one report, anyway) deliberate.
At the risk of sounding alarmist, this changes the entire concept of The Prisoner. The fact that Number 6 knows who he is, what he did, and why he did it was vital to the show, as he actively fought to protect his sense of identity through sheer force of will power and belief in himself. To have Number 6 deprived of the knowledge of who he is, and (if I’m reading it correctly) rediscover who he is in an enemy camp, means that the entire premise of the show has been changed.
While I will admit that there are various episodes episode of the original series where Number 6 is tricked into believing that he is, in fact, someone else (or retrained with a new personality during the “Ultimate Test”), the people who ran The Village were very careful to avoid actually damaging his intellect. After all, were his brain or intellect damaged, then they may never actually find out the answer to the question of why he resigned.
So, the question remains… is this new Prisoner a mere “prison break” story with some psychological contrivances and good actors, or will it actually follow the footsteps of its original source material and provide us with an innovative television series that dares to have us question our culture and our society?
I’ll be waiting for an answer to that question, hoping that it will arrive in November.
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