The Prisoner Review: A Pretentious Reimagining

Emphasis on dreamlike. McGoohan's Six knew that he was a captive; he knew where he came from, and he and the Villagers remembered details of the outside world. Caviezel's Six simply materializes. His past comes to him, and us, in a series of disorienting flashbacks (or are they?) of life in Manhattan that act as a parallel plot. He faintly recognizes people he meets from elsewhere, but they don't recall it; they don't know what New York is or recognize names like Darwin and Plato. The official belief is that there is no outside world: "There is only the Village." (The few who believe rumors of "another place" come to a bad end.) Are Six's memories even real? Is the Village?

This hallucinatory hermeticism makes for an ambitious, sinister narrative, but often a disjointed and pretentious one. If it's not always clear what's dream and what's reality in the Village, it's also not always clear what's complexity and what's affectation in The Prisoner. And it doesn't help that Caviezel's blank, charmless performance gives us no real anchor or connection with his quest.

McKellen almost redeems the miniseries as Two. The leader has a story of his own, including an ailing wife and a rebellious son. Two has less control over his family and their love than he does over the Village, and McKellen's wonderfully calibrated performance combines arrogance and secret pain. Whatever the Village's purpose, it has not solved Two's problems.

Unlike the original, the remake tells us what that purpose is, but given the big buildup, the answer is surprisingly pat and riddled with circular logic. This Prisoner is visually stunning and risk-taking but not a satisfying rethinking. Maybe what TV really needs is not reimagination but just more imagination.