I Am Not a Number!
The actor, director and writer Patrick McGoohan passed away this time last year. Our editor wanted to write about him throughout 2009, but never found space...
Patrick first came to worldwide attention as the star of a British TV series called Danger Man, which was an attempt by the Brits to make a TV version of James Bond. However, Patrick had certain values that he insisted on being adhered to by the programme makers, in particular in relation to the depiction of romance (and especially sex) on screen. He was not willing to do anything that he would not be happy for his children to watch, he told me years later. I remember Danger Man being in black and white and thoroughly enjoying it as a kid.
This was followed by a series that really blew the world’s socks off! Called The Prisoner, Patrick conceived it himself, wrote most of it, directed quite a few episodes, produced, and played the lead throughout. “I am not a number – I am a free man!” resonated round the globe.
This was in the days when adventurous, avant-garde programming was played by free-to-air networks in prime time – a phenomenon that is an utter impossibility now, it seems. It was a worldwide hit, and still has a huge cult following – go to the website and read about the annual conventions at Portmeirion in Wales where the series was filmed.
After the series finished there were stories floating around that Patrick had had a nervous breakdown; that the strain of such an intense and all-consuming project, not to mention the subject matter (a gigantic mind-game, one could say), had proved too much for him. True or not, he disappeared from the scene for a rather long time.
Jump forward to early 1983. I’ve applied for a job on a movie, only my second, and been given the task of chauffeuring the imported lead. The film was initially to be called Finding Katie, and was the attempt by producer Tom Finlayson to develop a feature in reaction to the canning of the television series Mortimer’s Patch by the network at its peak of popularity. It seems it’s a common phenomenon that when the Head of Drama in a network is replaced, for whatever reason, the new person brings in not only new personnel but also ditches all the projects belonging to their predecessor, no matter how successful. Certainly that used to happen in the BBC and it happens in New Zealand – or did happen in New Zealand when we had a drama department within TVNZ.
So Maurice Gee was commissioned to write a script featuring the Mortimer’s Patch characters, and Patrick was contracted to play the lead character, a father whose wife has died in childbirth and who has brought up his only daughter to be a replacement “caregiver” (shall we say…). She’s been kept a prisoner in the house throughout her childhood and teens; she’s now 20 and breaking out.
I had wondered what had become of Patrick through all those years between The Prisoner and this role in NZ. There was the occasional feature film, but certainly not much… Then I heard somewhere that Patrick had got heavily involved with alcohol, that he was in fact seriously alcoholic. So I went into the Associate Producer’s office one day and asked, What’s this about McGoohan and booze? Do you know if he’s dry now, or what? The producer could have knocked me over with a feather when he said: “Actually, we were hoping you might be our touchstone on this particular one.” Oh my God, I don’t need this, I thought – but I did need the money, and I did need the job – I was new in the industry and still trying to establish a presence.
I waited in trepidation for Patrick to arrive in New Zealand. The producer met him at the airport; but I was asked to bring him that night to a meeting with the director. When I picked him up from his hotel, to my surprise he was dressed in eccentric make-up and costume, which he clearly thought befitted the character he was to play. Producer and director were equally taken aback, as I recall.
My next memory of being with Patrick was when I had to escort him to the crew and cast get-together, the day before principal photography. In the mid-afternoon I picked him up, and drove him to this upstairs bar in Ponsonby Road. I remember Patrick leading me up the stairs and me following, thinking, What on earth’s going to happen here, alcohol, alcohol!
We got to the top of the stairs. Patrick immediately headed straight for the bar; I had to follow him. He leant casually on the bar with one elbow, looked at me, and said: “What are you having?” I was torn – should I ask for something alcoholic or not? I don’t actually remember what I chose in the end, a scotch and dry most likely. Patrick turned to the barman and said, “(That) for him and an orange juice for me, please.” Oh, the relief! Sure enough, throughout the whole time that he was here, I never saw him touch a drop, nor show any inkling of such.
The first day of the shoot – I’m not at all sure whether I should talk about this or not, but I’ll talk about it now and maybe edit it out later!
On one of the first days of the shoot we were shooting a crowd scene out in a field with other main characters and a lot of extras. I remember we did quite a few shots: the scene was an argument between Patrick’s character and the guru of a community that his daughter has fled to and he’s trying to drag her away from; and the residents of the commune are gathering around trying to protect her. A heavy number to start a day with!
At one point the director indicated we’d finished the scene. I remember Patrick turning round and saying, “Aren’t you going to do (a particular shot)” and the director saying that No, we didn’t need it – and I saw Patrick’s face fall. He clearly disagreed. Unlike Bruce Willis – (see the article on Tom Burstyn in issue 41!) – this was definitely not about making more screen time for himself; quite the opposite; but looking at Patrick’s face, I could see that in that short moment he’d lost confidence in the director.
Unfortunately it would never return. But to both Patrick’s and the director’s credit, their professionalism prevailed; and Patrick did his absolute best right through the shoot to make his character as convincing as possible, to be utterly truthful to the script and loyal to the project.
Patrick was one of these actors who gets obsessively inside each role. When I would pick him up in the morning he would already be in character. He would sit in the back of the car, and he would hardly say a word. He might be going over his lines either vocally or just silently, but there would be no communication, no conversation. I would deliver him to the location; he’d go straight to make-up/wardrobe, and then straight on to the set. It was almost like travelling with an alien in a way, but I got used to it quite quickly.
If I was also driving Emma Piper (the young English actress playing his character’s daughter) the same applied to any communication between them. He spoke to Emma as if she was his actual daughter, as if they actually were the characters in the film. He was not interested in engaging in polite conversation – unlike Emma, who would have happily chatted away about anything.
But come the end of the day, all changed. Patrick would step out of the make-up/wardrobe area, back in his own clothes, and immediately climb into the car. Then the character was thrown away; all of a sudden he was just Patrick, and we would talk non-stop on the way back to the hotel or wherever. He would tell me very funny stories of various episodes in his life; and jokes. He would always sit in the front of the car, on these journeys home, unlike in the mornings.
One time he was laughing so hard over the events he was relating, he was bouncing in his seat and literally hitting his head on the roof of the car!
There’s a bit more to this article; I’ll finish the last portion in the next response.
Continuing and completing the article "I am Not a Number!": I would go back to the set later and tell people how Patrick was such an engaging character, and so entertaining. But nobody would believe me! They never saw it. To them, as indeed to Emma, who complained that Patrick appeared to see women as only saints or whores (as his character did), Patrick was this dour, serious character who just came, did his job and went.
As Number 6 would say in his enigmatic way: Be seeing you!
“How should I address you?”
“Pat, or Patrick – whatever you prefer.”
But in my still youthful awe of The Prisoner, I guess, I never could quite manage ‘Pat.’
In December 2009 the remake of The Prisoner, featuring Jim Caviezel as No. 6 and Sir Ian McKellen as No. 2, appeared on TV overseas…
The 5-disc DVD set of the original series is a bargain at NZ $50!
www.ThePrisonerAppreciationSociety.com
www.portmeiricon.com – the site for the annual conventions held by the P.A.S.
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