Inside the Prisoner: Radical Television and Film in the 1960s

by Ian Rakoff

The fully illustrated inside account of the making and significance of the ultimate cult television show.

Genres: Nonfiction

192 pages, Paperback

First published July 1, 1999

Reviews

[Lee Battersby · Rating 2 out of 5]

An odd little book: despite being adjacent to some of the great British cultural icons of the 60s like Lindsay Anderson, the Beatles, Malcolm McDowell, Nicolas Roeg and, of course, Patrick McGoohan, author Ian Rakoff lacks the insight or writing nous to give us anything of real depth about them. Much is made of his general 'outsiderness'-- a South African emigree set suddenly down into the centre of hip 60s London-- and his writing reflects this dislocation: he comes across very much as a distant observer, 'of' the scene rather than 'in' it, and the inevitable shallowness of his observations leaves the reader feeling like the subject matter has been merely skimmed, rather than investigated.

Indeed, his involvement with 'The Prisoner', far from being central to the book as indicated by the title, is shown to be somewhat peripheral. Despite writing one of the 17 episodes filmed, we get only glimpses of the 'nerve centre' of the production, fleeting images of McGoohan as he blasts past from one important meeting to the next and few interactions with anyone other than minor figures associated with the program. Indeed, the only major interaction he has with 'Pat' is a blast at the level of Rakoff's writing skill so intense that it leaves the author devastated, so much so that he can only recount it in the most basic, simplistic terms. Not the best basis upon which to build a written memoir...

Much more is made of his love/hate relationship with Anderson, the egomanical director of the cult classic move "If...." and the book might better have been placed as an examination of that experience, although a cynic might suggest that it would not receive quite the same level of cultural interest if it was. In fact, most 'Prisoner' material is lumped onto the end in a series of appendices, which, interesting as they are, do nothing to help the overall impression that a somewhat mundane and dim autobiography has had its sole point of intrigue bumphed up to give it some cult buy-in.

Rakoff comes across as a not-very interesting man who had a couple of brief, fleeting interactions with events that carry some cultural mass, but little else. We get no real insight into that most brilliant of cult shows and the flawed, enigmatic genius behind it, and on that alone, without considering the multitudinous other flaws, this book cannot be counted anywhere near a success.

[D.M. · Rating 2 out of 5]

I don't think I've ever read such a blatant attempt to make a quick buck out of a phenomenon. Rakoff's book, though originally an attempt by him to make something actually about the show, ended up a disjointed ramble about a brief part of his career. It reads quite a bit like he just talked into a tape recorder about whatever he could remember about the period, then transcribed the tapes, though clearly he put more effort into it than that. He went back and interviewed a number of players from the time, a la Citizen Kane, with a vague idea of getting to the bottom of The Prisoner's mystique. Unfortunately, he had so little to do with the show, and talked to people who cared so little for it then and now, that the connection to it and to McGoohan is tenuous at best. As it turns out, only about 50 pages of the book proper are devoted to the show and Rakoff's fleeting relationship with McGoohan, then another ten to an unnecessary episode guide. What is given more print is Rakoff's embarrassing toady-relationship to tyrannic director Lindsay Anderson. A bizarre tale of two men locked into a co-dependent affair before their were such terms.
The back jacket touts that Rakoff will reveal how 'future episodes' of The Prisoner would have unfolded (had it continued, and had Rakoff been given the four eps McGoohan supposedly offered him), but even that is overreaching. What we actually are given are synopses of four issues of the 1950s comic Airboy, which Rakoff intended to use as launch points (read 'intended to rip off') for eps he would write, but with no real idea how he would do that.
Overall, a disappointing read, but not really because it has so little to do with The Prisoner. In reality, it's a letdown because Rakoff seems like an interesting fellow (with overweening interests in anti-racism and comic books), who led a fairly rich life, but who doesn't have the faculties to tell us about it in an engaging way. There's almost no reason to read this book, and I can't imagine how it got published.

[James Crawford · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a British book written by the man who co-wrote the episode Living in Harmony for the Prisoner. It's more a story about the man's personal life than it is information about the Prisoner as such, although there are some very fascinating personal insights into what was going on during the last part of the history of the Prisoner series.

The book does not paint a very flattering picture of some of the people involved in the series, and it seems that advanced planning was not necessarily one of the top priorities in the making of the show. The part about Ian Rakoff's youth in South Africa is quite interesting.

A book worth reading, but not necessarily something for anyone but a completist.

[S.M. Jenkin · Rating 2 out of 5]

An interesting book with an insight into Ian Rakoff's character and career. Title is misleading as it implies it's about the Prisoner when it really isn't.
It's more of a biography with an emphasis on Rakoff's career during the 1960s. There is more about his relationship with Lindsay Anderson than his brief stint of work with McGoohan. Worth a read if you're interested in this aspect of 1960s film and TV history.

[Edward Champion · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ian Rakoff had the good fortune to work with two 1960s visionaries I deeply admire: Patrick McGoohan and Lindsay Anderson, both described by Rakoff as "gentlemen rebels." While there are a few amusing stories here (particularly an insane two hour meeting Rakoff had with McGoohan at his most unhinged), this book is wildly episodic and disjointed and not really of interest to anyone other than fans of 1960s film and television.

[Thom Coté · Rating 2 out of 5]

Works OK as a memoir of working in TV and film in the 60's, but greatly (and, I felt, somewhat cynically) oversells its relevance to and insight into The Prisoner.