Prisoners in Kind (Sort Of )

Not that it’s an intentional copycat or anything like that. Yet speaking of “The Truman Show”--and lots of cinephiles still are--there’s something about this hit movie that’s more than vaguely familiar.

Now you take idyllic Seahaven, where Jim Carrey’s Truman Burbank has spent the first 30 years of his surreal life:

The sun is always shining in Seahaven.

Same for The Village.

Seahaven is a secure, cozy seaside town.

Same for The Village.

The townspeople in Seahaven are unfailingly friendly, and neighbors greet each other warmly.

Same for The Village.

Yet Seahaven is a town with a secret.

Same for The Village.

The residences, well-manicured lawns and town square are a little too perfect.

Same for The Village.

Seahaven is not what it appears to be, for something there is not quite right.

11Same for The Village.

Someone is watching.

Same for The Village.

It turns out that Seahaven is the site of a TV series.

The Village, too.

Overlapping fantasies and realities are a bit confusing here. However, a large difference between the two picturesque locales is that the TV series centering on Seahaven is fictional and does not exist outside the movie, whereas the quite-remarkable 17-episode TV series set in the hamlet known as The Village was real. And still is in the memories of its most ardent supporters.

Its title was “The Prisoner,” its 1968 opening on CBS (after playing first in England) coming almost on the same day, three decades before, the June 5 release of “The Truman Show.”

The creator and star of “The Prisoner” was Patrick McGoohan, a good actor known mostly for high-profile villainous roles. Yet, more than anything else on his resume, “The Prisoner” is a true masterwork, ranking as one of TV’s smartest, most original and most interesting series ever, despite at times being utterly unfathomable.

Making it all the more seductive.

And such a shame that something this challenging and distinctive isn’t on the air these days so that viewers who haven’t seen it can be aware of all the possibilities.

In “The Prisoner,” McGoohan plays an unnamed British spy who, after resigning his position, is gassed by unknown persons and transported to a resort-like community that seems as remote as it is lovely and pristine. In fact, it’s a prison, albeit a comfy and serene place, one whose other residents also appear to be British spies who have been removed from circulation, presumably because of the secrets they can tell.

Each is identified only by a number. Known only as Number Six, McGoohan’s character initiates nearly every episode by having this cryptic dialogue with a different Number Two (the unseen Number One’s ever-changing second banana).

Number Six: “Where am I?”

Number Two: “In The Village.”

Number Six: “What do you want?”

Number Two: “Information.”

Number Six: “Which side are you on?”

Number Two: “That would be telling. We want information, information, information.”

Number Six: “You won’t get it.”

Number Two: “By hook or by crook we will.”

Number Six: “Who are you?”

Number Two: “The new Number Two.”

Number Six: “Who is Number One?”

Number Two: “You are Number Six.”

Number Six: “I am not a number. I am a free man.”

Number Two: “Ha, ha, ha, ha.”

As for more similarities, “The Truman Show’s” Seahaven is a real place, Seaside, Fla. And The Village also exists. It’s Portmeirion, an actual resort in North Wales.

Just as Truman’s life from birth is being televised and observed without his knowledge, moreover, so are Number Six and his fellow prisoners under 24-hour electronic snooping, some of which emanates from giant spheres, making flight from The Village highly improbable.

Yet here is where Truman and Number Six part. Although a sweet guy worthy of sympathy, poor Truman is just a bit of a brick, and might as well be known by a number instead of a traditional name. It takes him 30 years to figure out that his entire life is an open book to the planet. In a sense, he’s his own jailer, as much a prisoner of his own myopia as of those who operate the perpetual TV series in which he is the unwitting superstar.

In contrast, Number Six relentlessly foments revolution. He knows he’s been robbed of his freedom and is obsessed with liberating himself and destroying The Village. He tries constantly either to flee or use other means to resist his captors, whose tactics include infiltrating his dreams. Although his attempts to escape are inevitably thwarted, he is more than a match for his captors’ mind games, and he never surrenders his brain or individuality to them.

Poor Truman, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have much of anything, certainly not a will, to surrender. Until now, he’s apparently never dreamed of seeing the world or even Disneyland, making him an easy mark for the totalitarian TV producer who controls him.

In the next-to-last episode of “The Prisoner,” meanwhile, Number Six manages to kill Number Two, leading to a finale, written by McGoohan, in which his character finally is able to obliterate The Village and escape back to London with some others. Yet, this happens only after a scene suggesting that the Number One whom Number Six despises may be--are you ready?--a twisted element of his own personality.

Supporters of that theory refer to the above-quoted opening dialogue in which Number Six asks who is Number One, and Number Two appears to ignore the question by responding, “You are Number Six.” They insist that Number Two instead is saying, “You are, Number Six.” Yikes.

Thus, just as the ultimate message of “The Truman Show” may be that we’re confined mostly by our own lack of vision, is it possible that the Number One imprisoning Number Six in The Village is himself? That he is being controlled not by outsiders, but by his own totalitarian side?

In any case, “The Prisoner” is not TV by the numbers.

Just as Truman’s life from birth is being televised and observed without his knowledge, so are Number Six and his fellow prisoners under 24-hour electronic snooping.