The Wild Wild West, season one (1965)

The Wild Wild West was one of the most successful American action adventure series of the 1960s. Beginning in September 1965 it ran for four seasons and would have run longer had it not fallen victim to pressure on the networks to reduce the level of violence on television. It’s hard to imagine today that this series could haver been seen as excessively violent!

The basic premise is one of those brilliant ideas that work so well that you wonder why it hadn’t been tried before - a James Bond-style spy thriller set in the Wild West.

Jim West (Robert Conrad) and Artemus Gordon (Ross Martin) are US Secret Service agents who battle a variety of foes from their headquarters aboard a special train. Since they take their orders directly from President Grant we can assume it’s set in the 1870s. They are equipped with the kinds of gadgets James Bond would have employed had he been a spy in the 1870s. This series is often credited (rightly) as being one of the major inspirations for the steampunk style of science fiction.

Jim West is your standard square-jawed action hero. Artemus Gordon relies on brains rather than brawn and is a master of disguise (although when disguised he still looks remarkably like Ross Martin). Conrad had been reluctant to audition for the rôle of West believing that he had no chance whatsoever of landing it. Fortunately he decided to give it a go and he makes a fine hero. It’s obvious from his brief introductions to each episode on the DVDs that Conrad remembers The Wild Wild West vividly and with a great deal of fondness. Ross Martin complements him perfectly. Conrad is proud of the fact that he did most of his own stunts, leading Ross Martin to remark (much to Conrad’s amusement) that, “Conrad did all his own stunts. I did all my own acting.”

The pilot episode, Night of the Inferno, does an efficient enough job of establishing the characters and the basic premise. It also introduces us to the train that will play such an important part in the series (and give it so much of its flavour). In his audio commentary to this episode Robert Conrad points out that the series was originally intended to be a fairly conventional western. The idea of making it more of a James Bond in the West series was something that gradually developed. There are some gadgets in this episode but it lacks the outrageous elements of the fantastic that would later become so familiar. That was perhaps wise - those elements might have been a bit too strange for viewers unaccustomed to seeing the western and spy genres blended together. Introducing the series as a relatively straightforward western was playing safe and it obviously worked since the series subsequently got the green light.

The show’s initial production history was somewhat troubled with several changes of producer early in the first season (in fact this season had six different producers). Each producer had his own ideas of what the series was going to be. It took quite a while for a completely successful format to be found. It’s interesting to watch the first season in production order rather than the order in which it was broadcast - you can see the very obvious changes made by the various producers. 

The first few episodes were produced by Collier Young and it’s clear that he saw the series as basically a western with just the barest hint of the secret agent genre. Episodes like The Night of the Double-Edged Knife are pretty conventional stuff. Young also decided to give Jim West an English valet, Tennyson, an idea that was immediately dropped when Young departed after just three episodes. Tennyson was a harmless character but not really necessary. The Night of the Fatal Trap is particularly weak - really not much more than a routine western.

The series started to find its feet as soon as Fred Freiberger took over as producer. The Night of the Deadly Bed is a major step in the right direction. It has a full-blown larger-than-life diabolical criminal mastermind and it has a definite hint of steampunk with the fire-breathing killer train. The Night the Wizard Shook the Earth is even better. It introduces possible the most popular of all the villains who populate the series - the diminutive but delightfully crazy Dr Loveless. The use of clockwork (on a very big scale) to trigger a bomb is a nice steampunk touch.

The Night of Sudden Death has tigers, crocodiles, a circus and an African chief and has the right touch of outrageousness. The Night of a Thousand Eyes has Jim and Artemus battling pirates on the Mississippi River and it has the kind of wonderful larger-than-life villain that Freiberger insisted that each episode should have in order to present his heroes with worthy adversaries.

The Night That Terror Stalked the Town is absolutely classic cult TV. You just can’t do better in the cult stakes than evil midget mad scientists. Plus a whole town of creepy wax dummies. And very steampunk-ish gadgetry in the mad scientist laboratory. 

Even more in the steampunk vein is The Night of the Glowing Corpse, in which West has to foil the attempted theft of radioactive franconium from the French government. We know that this episode takes place in 1870 since France is at war with Prussia but has not yet been defeated. The nature of radioactivity was in reality not understood until the 1890s. Radioactivity is not the only steampunk element here - Artemus has invented a primitive aqualung (and a couple of other cool tricks as well), and a French scientist has invented a delightful early version of a Geiger counter. The more steampunk the series got the better it became.

Despite the behind-the-scenes turmoil the first season of The Wild Wild West proves that American television in the 60s could produce a series that could match the best British series of that era such as The Avengers for originality, style and quirkiness (if perhaps not quite achieving the same degree of wittiness). The Wild Wild West is clever and it’s enormous fun. Highly recommended.

Mystery and Imagination - Uncle Silas (1968)

The British gothic horror anthology television series Mystery and Imagination ran from 1966 to 1970. Each episode was based on a classic work of gothic fiction. The early episodes were made by ABC, which after merging with Rediffusion became Thames Television. Thames Television produced the final six episodes. The first of the Thames episodes was Uncle Silas, based on J. Sheridan le Fanu’s 1864 novel. Uncle Silas went to air in November 1968.

Joseph Sheridan le Fanu (1814-1873) wrote both “sensation novels” and gothic horror and his importance in the history of both genres can hardly be overstated. His vampire novella Carmilla has been adapted for film and television countless times (in fact it was adapted for this very series but is one of the many lost episodes). Uncle Silas can in fact be considered to belong to both genres. It might not be supernatural horror but it’s certainly gothic. 

This television adaptation goes for total gothic overload. The gothic atmosphere is taken almost to the point of parody. This is combined with an extraordinary and delirious excessiveness and the result is one of the most outrageous pieces of television you are ever likely to see.

Maud Ruthyn (Lucy Fleming) is the daughter of the respectable and in his own rather gruff way essentially kindly Austin Ruthyn. As Maud is now approaching adulthood her father feels it may be time to raise a very uncomfortable subject with her - her notorious Uncle Silas, her father’s brother. As Austin explains Silas has lived as a virtual recluse for many years, his life blighted by rumours and suspicions. 

As a young man Silas Ruthyn had incurred very heavy debts, the result of riotous living. These debts were conveniently cancelled out by the fortuitous death of the money lender to whom he owed them. The money lender died, apparently by his own hand, in a locked room with all the doors and windows sealed from the inside (this story is a very early example of the locked-room mystery genre) so a verdict of suicide was officially accepted. The circumstances in fact indicated that suicide was the only possible explanation.

In spite of this there were persistent rumours that Silas had murdered the money lender. The rumours made it impossible for Silas to take his rightful place in society and he withdrew into seclusion. This seclusion gave rise to both eccentricity and drug addiction.

On the death of her father his will is found to include a very alarming clause - Silas is appointed Maud’s guardian and she will have to live in his grand but semi-ruined and somewhat forbidding (and naturally incredibly gothic) house.

Silas’s isolation has meant that his children have received little education and few instructions in the social graces. His daughter Millicent is good-natured in a rather rustic sort of way but his son Dudley (Dudley Sutton) is much more worrying. He not only has a reputation for drunkenness, debauchery and gambling he is also an uneducated lout. Worse still, he is determined to marry Maud. Maud clearly is in a very difficult position and her future looks rather bleak.

Production designer Stan Woodward has really excelled himself in creating the gothic mood and director Alan Cooke approaches his subject with enthusiasm. He throws in a lot of very effective low-angle shots and the occasional Dutch angle and generally shows considerable skill in enhancing the feel of weirdness and subtle brooding menace.

The music (by James Stevens) adds yet another layer of outrageousness. The icing on the cake is the over-the-top acting, especially from Robert Eddison as Silas and Dudley Sutton as his loutish son.

All of this however pales into insignificance compared to Patience Collier’s absolutely incredible ands indescribable performance as Maud’s bizarre and terrifying elderly French governess Madame de la Rougierre.

The performances are in general remarkably effective. Robert Eddison veers between self-pitying resentment, deviousness and ingratiating meekness and he makes Silas more than a mere monster. Or at least he conveys this impression - whether Silas really is a monster or not remains to be seen.

Lucy Fleming is particularly good. Maud is a very feminine well brought up young lady keen to be a dutiful daughter and abide by her late father’s wishes but at the same time she’s quite strong-willed and determined and at times even verging on feisty. It’s a fine complex performance and although she avoids the excesses of the other cast members she’s never overshadowed by them.

There’s plenty of delicious melodrama here (and I happen to love melodrama), some bravura acting, fine directing and superb sets, a locked-room mystery and as much gothic atmosphere as anyone could possibly desire. And it all works. 

Network in the UK have released the six Thames TV episodes plus the two surviving ABC episodes of Mystery and Imagination in a fine Region 2 DVD boxed set. Of the other Thames TV episodes The Suicide Club and Frankenstein are very much worth seeing. Dracula and Sweeney Todd are less successful but they still have some interest. The boxed set is certainly a very worthwhile buy for fans of gothic horror. The loss of almost all the ABC episodes (no less than sixteen out of the eighteen are lost episodes) is an incalculable loss.

Uncle Silas is tremendous fun. Highly recommended.

Cool and Lam (TV pilot, 1958)

Erle Stanley Gardner is most famous as the author of the hugely popular Perry Mason mysteries, which were of course the basis for the equally successful TV series. Under the pseudonym A. A. Fair he also wrote the Cool and Lam series of novels about a mismatched pair of private eyes. 

With the Perry Mason TV series proving to be an immediate success when it launched in 1957 it was hardly surprising that thought was given to the possibility of a Cool and Lam TV series. In fact a pilot episode was made, although sadly that’s as far as it got. The good news is the pilot survives and it can be found online.

Jacques Tourneur, a superb director who helmed some of the greatest movies in the film noir cycle, was hired to direct. A TV series didn’t give him the same scope as a movie but he did a more than competent job and the pilot is certainly nicely paced.

Bertha Cool runs a detective agency. She is middle-aged, loud and overweight, incredibly penny-pinching and her ethics are flexible (and that’s being generous). Her partner Donald Lam is a weedy little lawyer whose ethics are only marginally less dubious than Bertha’s. The trick in adapting these books for television was to make these two rather shady characters likeable and amusing without being irritating. Both leads in the pilot, Benay Venuta as Bertha Cool and Billy Pearson as Donald Lam, generally succeed in doing this. No, I’d never heard of them either, and the relative obscurity of it stars may have counted against the show.

The other trick was to maintain a fairly lighthearted tone without succumbing to the temptation to play things purely for laughs. Cool and Lam does this quite well also. The plot is decent and with a fine director like Tourneur in charge it’s a solid and entertaining little mystery. The half-hour (which most TV series at the time adhered to) is a slight problem - Gardner’s plots were delightfully fiendish and would have been easier to adapt in an hour-long format but that’s a minor quibble.

Cool and Lam certainly had potential. Television executives however are not renowned by wanting to take risks and the shady ethics of two very non-glamorous private eyes may have been seen as too much of a gamble. The pilot though is worth a watch. 

The Persuaders! (1971)

Towards the end of the run of The Saint producer Robert S. Baker came up with what he thought was a very cool idea - why not pair the smooth, urbane and very English Simon Templar with a brash, cocky American in a kind of buddy movie episode. The episode in question, The Ex-King of Diamonds, worked so well that it seemed a rather obvious move to turn the idea into a new ITC action adventure series. Thus was The Persuaders! born.

In The Ex-King of Diamonds the brash American was a Texas oilman played (extremely well) by Stuart Damon. For The Persuaders! a bigger name star was wanted and eventually Tony Curtis was settled on. Tony Curtis of course would not have made a very convincing Texan so the character was rejigged as a New York financier. 

Two essential parts of the formula for The Persuaders! had already been laid down in The Ex-King of Diamonds. Firstly, the two protagonists should come from very different social backgrounds and this have very different personal styles. Secondly, they should initially hate each other’s guts but eventually develop a bond of respect and even affection. In fact both The Ex-King of Diamonds and the first episode of The Persuaders! would feature a spectacular fist fight between the two protagonists (and in both cases the fight scene was filmed entirely without stunt doubles).

Lord Brett Sinclair, the character played by Roger Moore, is obviously very similar to the Simon Templar of the Saint TV series - rich, cultured, charming and with a taste for the good things in life. The main difference being that Lord Brett Sinclair really is as aristocratic as he seems to be while Simon Templar’s background is actually rather shady. Tony Curtis’s character, Danny Wilde, is a poor kid from the Bronx who clawed his way to the top on Wall Street. 

The opening episode of any series presents potential difficulties since it has to spend quite a bit of time establishing the characters and the general setup of the series while still trying to tell an exciting action adventure story. For the debut episode in this instance, Overture, that task was even more difficult since the audience has to be given quite a lot of information not only about the two heroes but also about the mysterious figure in the background pulling the strings. Fortunately Brian Clemens is equal to the task. He’s helped by the clever opening titles sequence which actually tells us most of what we need to know about the backgrounds and personalities of the two heroes. This leaves Clemens free to concentrate on the tense and initially adversarial relationship between the two men and on their puppet-master, Judge Fulton. Fulton is now retired from the Bench and has dedicated   his life to bringing to justice those criminals that the law cannot touch.

Lew Grade always understood that if a British TV series was to have any chance in international markets, especially the US, it had to have production values that were the equal of any American series. For The Persuaders! ITC really pulled out all the stops. In Roger Moore and Tony Curtis it had very big name stars. It boasts an enormous amount of location shooting. The sets are sumptuous. And of course the cars and the clothes had to be stylish and expensive. The cars, Lord Brett’s Aston Martin DBS and Danny Wilde’s Dino Ferrari, certainly qualify as stylish. As for the clothes - well it has to be said that this was the 1970s and they’re very 1970s indeed. Some of Lord Brett’s clothes (which Roger Moore designed himself) would not have been out of place in Jason King’s wardrobe. Luckily both Moore and Curtis are the kinds of stars who can just about get away with wearing 70s outfits. 

It has to be said that the overall quality of the scripts was rather uneven. Of course this was true of a number of the ITC action adventure series. Episodes like Powerswitch are fairly routine while The Time and the Place is an ill-advised attempt at a political drama.

In The Gold Napoleon, a much better episode, Brett and Danny come up against a clever plot involving counterfeit coins. A gang has discovered an ingenious way to dispose of stolen gold bullion - turn the bullion into fake coins but admit that the coins are fakes. That way they’re not technically doing anything illegal, just selling the coins for their gold value.

Greensleeves, scripted by Terence Feely, is a great deal of fun. One of Brett’s country houses is being renovated, which is rather strange since he knows nothing about it. Brett and Danny decide to investigate and uncover a plot that involves African politics, the Foreign Office, nickel mines and a fake Lord Brett Sinclair. Doubles were very popular plot devices in the television of this era but this one adds a few twists, plus it has secret passageways and dungeons and it gives Tony Curtis (who had done a few swashbucklers in his time) the chance to brush up on his sword-fighting skills. Take Seven tells the story of a wealthy heiress who suddenly finds herself dispossessed of her fortune but when her long-lost brother, long believed to be dead, turns up. She is sure he is an impostor and Brett and Danny set out to prove that she’s right. Long-lost brothers, like doubles, were an over-used cliché. These two episodes demonstrate that even over-used clichés can make very entertaining television if they’re done with enough style.

A Death in the Family is a very untypical but hugely enjoyable episode that gives Roger Moore the chance to have some fun playing several different characters. Overall it has a feel very reminiscent of The Avengers (perhaps not surprising since writer Terry Nation had penned a number of episodes of that series). 

The biggest asset of this series was of course the casting of the two leads. Not only do Moore and Curtis both have the necessary charisma and style - they work beautifully together. Curtis quickly earned a reputation for being unpredictable, temperamental and generally extremely difficult to work with. What no-one could ever deny though is that once the cameras started rolling he delivered the goods. It soon became obvious that trying to tell Curtis how to play the rôle was both futile and quite unnecessary. He loved the part and he understood the character perfectly and he knew exactly what he was doing. He was allowed to choose his own wardrobe and to add his own idiosyncrasies to the character (just as Danny’s penchant for wearing gloves). The fact that Roger Moore was renowned for being incredibly easy to work with presumably made it easier to deal with Curtis’s somewhat individualistic working habits.

Despite the weakness of some of the scripts The Persuaders! has a lot going for it. ITC spent a lot of money on the series and unlike their earlier series it relies on location shooting rather than stock footage. Production values are extremely high. The two leads are terrific and their onscreen chemistry is superb. The relationship between the two characters works perfectly. The dialogue sparkles (much of it ad-libbed by Moore and Curtis). It was a major hit everywhere - everywhere except the US. Tony Curtis always believed its failure in the US was the fault of the network for screening it too late at night, thus depriving it of the chance to win younger viewers who would have loved it, and his view may well be correct. With Roger Moore already chosen as the next James Bond there was in any case never any realistic chance of a second season. 

Network’s DVD boxed set provides generally excellent transfers with plenty of extras including a commentary track for the opening episode featuring both Moore and Curtis. It’s clear from the commentary that Curtis was enthusiastic about the series and remained very fond of Danny Wilde as as character. There are a couple of other audio commentaries and a documeantary on the series.

Despite its short run The Persuaders! rapidly built a solid cult following and its popularity continued to grow in Europe. With its opulence, its unashamed optimism, its celebration of style, its charismatic stars and its generally tongue-in-cheek tone it remains a fan favourite, and with good reason. It’s just so much fun. Highly recommended. 

The Machine Stops - Out of the Unknown season 2 episode 1

The Machine Stops was first broadcast in Britain in 1966 as the first episode in the second season of the BBC’s science fiction anthology TV series Out of the Unknown. It’s one of the best episodes in this uneven but extraordinarily interesting series.

The Machine Stops was based on E. M. Forster’s 1909 dystopian science fiction short story of the same name. The most intriguing aspect of the story is that it provides an uncanny anticipation of the 21st century world of the internet and social networking.

The Machine Stops tells the story of Vashti (Yvonne Mitchell), a woman of the distant future, and her son Kuno (Michael Gothard). Humanity now lives entirely underground. Civilisation has progressed to the point where all want and all pain and suffering has been eliminated. In fact all unpleasantness has been eliminated. The Machine provides everything that anyone could want. Instantaneous communication is possible with any place on the planet. There is no need for anyone ever to leave their room. Travel is unnecessary. In fact leaving one’s room is almost unheard of. Like most citizens in this wondrous civilisation Vashti has thousands of friends. Of course she has never met a single one of these friends in person, in the flesh so to speak. The very idea of such face-to-face meetings is terrifying and disgusting. She can talk to her friends whenever she wishes, through her view-screen.

Direct experience of anything is considered to be unnecessary, and possibly harmful. If one wants to experience something one does so through lectures, which can be accessed through the press of a button and which do not require leaving one’s room. Vashti herself delivers lectures on the music of the Australian Period (this idea can be regarded as a kind of anticipation of blogging and podcasts).

Her son Kuno is something of a misfit. He has shown disturbing signs of physical strength. He can stand up on his own for minutes at a time and can even walk for short distances. On his own feet! This sort of thing is recognised by The Machine as being not merely unnecessary but harmful. It might unsettle people. It might lead them to seek direct experience, or even (horror of horrors) it might lead them to want to go outside, onto the surface of the Earth. Kuno has displayed just such a disturbing tendency. In fact he has actually done so. Vashti finds her son more and more distressing.

Most horribly, Kuno has even ventured the opinion that The Machine might one day stop. 

Kenneth Cavander and Clive Donner adapted Forster’s story for television in 1959. The go-ahead was given for production to start but somehow it became lost in the bureaucratic labyrinths of the BBC and nothing came of it. Then in 1965 Irene Shubik, the producer of Out of the Unknown, rescued it from oblivion. Philip Saville, who had a reputation as an innovative director, was assigned to the project. 

Production designer Norman James was confident that he could, even on a penny-pinching BBC budget, do justice to the story. He and Saville were in agreement that the show should have both a futuristic and a slightly Edwardian look - this is the future, but the future as imagined in the past. There’s no question that James succeeded brilliantly - the sets are superb and they also have such a slight suggestion of a womb-like quality which admirably captures the atmosphere of Forster’s story.

Saville’s direction is (considering that was the era of shooting on videotape in the studio) bold and imaginative. In fact the studio-bound feel is an advantage - this is after all a stifling enclosed world. 

Yvonne Mitchell is magnificent as Vashti. The makeup effects make her look strange and alien and unhealthy but even though the character is emotionally distant to an extreme degree Mitchell still manages to engage our sympathy. Vashti is a tragic figure, and unaware of her own tragedy. Michael Gothard’s eccentric, theatrical performance also works well. 

Forster was apparently very impressed by the adaptation and expressed the view that it improved on his original story.

The Machine Stops is an intelligent, though-provoking example of the science fiction of ideas. Fascinating, disturbing and oddly moving. Highly recommended.

All Gas and Gaiters (1966-71)

Ecclesiastical sitcoms enjoyed quite a vogue on British television in the late 60s and early 70s. All of them starred Derek Nimmo, an actor with a particular gift for portraying bumbling, well-meaning and very funny clerics. The first, and the best, of these series was All Gas and Gaiters which ran for five seasons on the BBC between between 1966 and 1971.

Sadly only eleven of the thirty-three episodes have survived the BBC’s relentless zeal to destroy as many of its own programs as possible. Those surviving episodes provide an example of the best of British television comedy.

All Gas and Gaiters focuses on four hapless clerics in the fictional St Ogg’s Cathedral. Bishop Cuthbert Hever is a very worldly bishop, a man who enjoys the good things in life and whose main desire is to avoid any unpleasantness. The elderly but jovial Archceacon Henry Blunt, is rather too fond of a tipple. The bishop’s Chaplain, The Rev. Mervyn Noote, is somewhat bungling although he’s actually quite bright. He wants nothing more than a quiet life but that’s the last thing he’s likely to get at St Ogg’s. These three would have a very pleasant life but there is one serpent in the ecclesiastical garden - the Very Reverend Lionel Pugh-Critchley, the Dean of St Ogg’s. The Dean is enthusiastic and zealous. His enthusiasm for efficiency and reform is just the sort of thing to make the quiet life impossible.

The husband-and-wife team of Edwin Apps and Pauline Devaney wrote all thirty-three episodes. While there’s an element of gentle satire their scripts display a considerable degree of affection for their characters. Even the Dean, for all his officiousness, is fundamentally a good man. He just happens to be one of these people who can’t leave well enough alone. The bishop is certainly worldly, he enjoys his comforts and he has a horror of rocking the boat, and he is always on the lookout for ways of making money. His money-making schemes are however always for good causes, never for his own personal benefit. He has in fact a very real devotion to the Church - he simply manages to combine this with his love for the good life. The Archdeacon is elderly and not very efficient but he’s kindly and gentle. Noote does the very best he can and in his own way he’s a devoted son of the Church. We can’t help liking these characters and although the series is very funny indeed the humour is consistently good-natured.

One of the great strengths of the series is the superlative casting. William Mervyn, a very fine character actor with a considerable gift for comedy, gives the Bishop just enough pomposity to be amusing without ever being irritating. Mervyn also starred in the delightful offbeat crime series Mr Rose. Robertson Hare, who had a very long and successful career mostly in farce, is a delight as the sherry-loving Archdeacon. Derek Nimmo, who built his career on playing loveable silly asses, is perfect as Noote. The Dean was potentially the trickiest character but John Barron’s performance is superbly judged - the Dean is a man who genuinely cannot see that his zeal for efficiency is going to antagonise people.

Not only are the four regular cast members uniformly superb, they play off one another with tremendous zest. It’s a joy watching four great comic actors all at the peak of their form.

All Gas and Gaiters was apparently enormously popular with Anglican clergymen. It was also enormously popular with the public. In fact it was loved by everyone, except apparently for the BBC who destroyed most of the episodes.

When we think of 1960s British comedy we generally tend to think of the Carry On movies and the rather risque style of television comedy that relies to a very large extent on sexual innuendo. There is very little of that in this series. All Gas and Gaiters represents a very different British comedy tradition, an engaging mix of wit and farce with a lovely balance of visual and verbal humour, comedy  that could be described as ideal family viewing whilst still being laugh-out-loud funny.

We can at least be extremely grateful that eleven episodes have survived and that all are included in a two-disc DVD set. This set, which happily is still in print, is an absolute must-buy for lovers of British television comedy. Very highly recommended.

The Avengers - the Tara King era, part 1

Having just bought Optimum’s wonderful series 6 boxed set of The Avengers I am naturally going to be talking quite a bit about the Tara King era of The Avengers. I’m intending to spread this out over several posts. Firstly because the Tara King era is criminally underrated but secondly because this final season saw several marked changes in direction and it falls naturally into two parts.

One of the reasons The Avengers had such a long run was that the series was radically reinvented at regular intervals, these reinventions being almost invariably associated with a change in producers. The first season (with Ian Hendry as the star) was a gritty realist spy drama. The next two seasons saw Steed playing opposite three different sidekicks before Honor Blackman established herself as his main partner. The series started moving in a more fantastic direction but a fair amount of the original gritty realism remained. A major change occurred in 1965 with the introduction of Diana Rigg. The series took on its most familiar form - surreal, tongue-in-cheek and utterly fantastic (in both senses of the word). The series also switched from videotape to film, the budgets were increased and production values were very much higher.

It was therefore no real surprise that the departure of Diana Rigg in 1967 would signal another change in direction. Albert Fennell and Brian Clemens were dumped and John Bryce, who had been responsible for most of the Cathy Gale episodes, was brought back as producer. Bryce wanted to return to the more realistic style of the Cathy Gale era.

The immediate problem was to find a replacement for Diana Rigg. The selection of Linda Thorson remans somewhat controversial among fans to this day. She was very young (just twenty) and frighteningly inexperienced. 

Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. Bryce was a fine producer but he had no experience in doing a filmed series, which of course requires a very different approach compared with videotape. Shooting started to fall behind schedule. Linda Thorson was clearly nervous and uncertain. Worst of all, no-one liked the first few episodes made under the new regime. The American ABC network was particularly unhappy (and The Avengers was much too expensive a show to make without a guaranteed sale to a US network). It was obviously time to hit the panic button. Albert Fennell and Brian Clemens were hurriedly recalled to take over as producers and save the ship which seemed to be in imminent danger of foundering. Seven Tara King episodes had already been made and the US network, now reassured, gave the go-ahead for a further full season of twenty-six episodes.

If the Tara King era as a whole is underrated those seven original episodes are even more maligned. They do present a bewildering mixture of styles and approaches, the character of Tara King is all over the place and they are certainly uneven. Having said that, they do have their moments and they are worth seeing. 

One other very big change was that Tara King would be a very different sort of partner for Steed. Steed’s other partners had all been amateurs and had all been apparently recruited by Steed on his own initiative and on a semi-official basis. Tara on the other hand was a professional spy. This changes the dynamics between the two leads in interesting ways. The Steed-Mrs Gale and Steed-Mrs Peel pairings had been relationships between equals on a personal level, but on a professional level Mrs Gale and Mrs Peel were Steed’s assistants (albeit very competent ones). On the personal level there’s more of a teacher-pupil thing between Steed and Tara (he was the agent who trained her after all). She clearly sees him as just a bit of a father figure. Professionally though they both have a job to do, they both get paid for it and they get on with it. The dynamic between them would change again in the later episodes with the advent of Mother.

It’s not easy to make a judgment on the John Bryce-produced episodes. Invitation to a Killing was partly reshot, cut from its original 90 minutes to 50 and renamed Have Guns - Will Haggle. The Great Great Britain Crime was never aired and no longer exists although bits of it turned up later in Homicide and Old Lace. In fact the only one of his episodes that survived intact was Invasion of the Earthmen.

Invasion of the Earthmen is one of the most reviled of all episodes of The Avengers. Terry Nation’s script was certainly somewhat unorthodox for this series and there are times when it looks disturbingly like an episode of Star Trek. Or even Doctor Who. Not surprising really, given that Terry Nation had written several classic Doctor Who stories (and he invented the Daleks). The basic premise is pure science fiction. There are of course hints of science fiction in various episodes of The Avengers but this one takes that tendency much much farther.

Being one of the very very early Tara King episodes, Tara has not yet been fully established as a character and more importantly the Steed-Tara relationship was still rather sketchy. Linda Thorson’s inexperience shows at times. On the whole though her performance is reasonably satisfying. Thorson and Patrick Macnee would quickly develop the right chemistry between the two lead characters and already the signs are promising.

Have Guns - Will Haggle had a particularly turbulent history. John Bryce had intended to introduce Tara in a special 90-minute story, Invitation To a Killing. After his departure Fennel and Clemens gave Ray Austin the job of turning it into a normal 50-minute running time through drastic editing and some reshoots. As a result there are some glaring continuity errors. What really counts against this one in the eyes of many fans though is that it doesn’t really feel like an Avengers story - it seems more like a straightforward action adventure spy story. It does however provide an interesting change of pace and it has a lot of action scenes and they’re very well done. It’s perhaps not a great episode but it’s intriguing and it has some very good moments. Along with Invasion of the Earthmen it offers a tantalising hint that John Bryce might well have taken The Avengers in an interesting direction had he been given the chance.

Two days after shooting commenced on The Curious Case of the Countless Clues John Bryce received his marching orders so this is very much a transitional episode. The plot is clever and well-constructed but it has the underlying realistic basis that Bryce hoped to restore to the series. It’s the kind of story that could quite easily have come from the Cathy Gale era. On the other hand there are some whimsical touches that indicated the direction in which Fennell and Clemens intended to take the series. Philip Levene’s script is a playful spoof of the detective stories of the golden age, with a detective named Sir Arthur Doyle (complete with deerstalker and magnifying glass) and three villains named Earle, Stanley and Gardiner (Erle Stanley Gardner was of course the author of the Perry Mason mysteries). This one has Tara in a wheelchair after a skiing accident but she still gets to play a very active role in the case. It boasts a clever plot - a series of murders with way too many clues, in fact so many clues that no-one could possibly miss them. Despite being incapacitated Tara proves herself to be more than capable of looking after herself and she gets an exceptionally good fight scene. Since John Bryce was still the producer when the cameras started rolling this was obviously one of the episodes he commissioned and it’s yet another indication that perhaps he really did know what he was doing.

Get-a-Way! has a wildly implausible premise that is a bit too obvious but it has some major pluses - the monastery prison is very cool, Andrew Keir is excellent and most of all it has Peter Bowles giving one of his best Avengers guest starring performances. Split! had been written as an Emma Peel episode. It’s credited to Brian Clemens although apparently the original version had been by Dennis Spooner. The re-writing might account for the slightly disjointed feel (and it’s rumoured that some scenes had actually been shot a year earlier). 

Look - (stop me if you've heard this one before) But There Were These Two Fellers... is perhaps the most controversial episode in the entire history of The Avengers. Many fans hate it; many adore it. I adore it. It has more inspired silliness than any other episode but the point that is often missed is that Dennis Spooner’s script has a dark edge to it. This is a story about clowns but they’re clowns who are ruthless killers. There’s always something slightly sinister and tragic about clowns and it brings this out extremely well. It’s a story that could have become maudlin (a rest home for washed-up vaudeville artists could have been desperately sad) but Spooner avoids this pitfall. This episode is often laugh-out-loud funny and in general the tone is light and breezy but there’s always just that slight hint of darkness. It’s also the episode in which Linda Thorson shows that she really does have what it takes to be an Avengers Girl - her comic timing is impeccable. It’s also an important episode in that the Steed-Tara dynamic starts to work, and work well. It’s close to being my favourite episode from any period of The Avengers.

These first seven episodes (including The Forget-Me-Knot which I’ve written about elsewhere) form an odd kind of mini-series. They are not so much uneven in quality as uneven in tone. That can be disconcerting but on the whole they provided a by no means disastrous beginning to the Tara King era. In fact it’s clear that the series was a long way from running out of steam and it was equally clear that Linda Thorson had a great deal of potential. All seven are worth watching and a couple are bona fide classics.