If you all want to give me a ring on it, so I can answer, “Hello, Bayside Diner...?” I’ll now telepathically communicate my home telephone number to you! It’s... *holds fingers to temples and visualises swirly spirals!* There now, don’t all call at once though! All I need now is for Bobbie to walk out of my fridge and my H&A experience will be complete!
Speaking of my fridge, and veering myself on topic at last to all (or at least most!) things Prisoner (in case you think you’ve accidentally wilfed your way onto homeandawaynostalgiacentral.com or whatever!), I had a terrible accident over Christmas when my little pot of brandy cream toppled over in my fridge and onto my garlic bread on the shelf below! *Gasp!* Honestly, more drama than an episode of Prisoner! That was worthy of a gateslam in itself! As I was laughing to one of my oppos, one minute, there she was sitting all demurely in my fridge like Laura the librarian, and the next she was Brandy and all over my garlic bread, the harlot!
I called Dr Weissman out for an emergency consultation and he diagnosed multiple personality disorder exacerbated by her claustrophobia at being squashed in my fridge with all my other Christmassy treats! She’s now been consigned to Ingleside...otherwise known as my wheelie bin!
So the upshot of this was thanks to her, as if poor Cinders didn’t have enough washing up to do on Christmas Day, I found myself standing at my kitchen sink washing my packets of garlic bread, as one does of course! I felt like calling out of my kitchen window to the neighbours, in the style of Kath Day-Knight out of Kath and Kim, “Yes hello! I’m washing my garlic bread! I’m perfectly normal you know!”
The joys of a rock and roll lifestyle! Anyway, I digress! My mission today is not to marvel about the wonders of the Brandy/Laura/Susan storyline and just how mesmerising I think Roslyn Gentle is in the role, especially during that scene in episode 382 where she switches back and forth between Laura, Susan and Brandy during that final consultation with Dr Weissman. I know the storyline itself wasn’t the most subtle in the world (but then I don’t just love Prisoner for its documentary realism!) but I really think the work Roslyn Gentle puts into her role(s), especially in that defining scene, is a stunning piece of television.
But what I’d like to natter about today, seeing as we’re still recovering from the spirit of the season (and how!) was a time in Wentworth when spirits were at large…and I’m not talking about one of Elizabeth Josephine Birdsworth’s drunken escapades! I was just coming to terms with the void left by Erica Davidson’s unceremonious dethronement, when in floated Zara Moonbeam (or Zara? Mooooon? Beeeeam? As Meg seems to say her name as if almost every syllable is a question!).
Happily, for me at any rate, she more than lived up to the promise of her mystical moniker, by not only providing us with some entertainment in her own right, but as the catalyst to one of the most gripping storylines in the show, I’d say. Not to mention how much of a treat it is to see an actress of Ilona Rodgers calibre passing through the show.
Prior to Prisoner, Ilona had quite a colourful acting career, appearing in some iconic British television series in the 1960s including Doctor Who, The Avengers and The Saint, then during the 1970s she popped up in that evergreen Australian classic, The Sullivans.
Just before appearing on Prisoner, she’d been quite busy, popping up in a few noteworthy things, including an Against The Wind-style convict drama called Sara Dane, for which she picked up a Logie at the 1983 Awards alongside Prisoner co-stars Val Lehman and Sheila Florance (for their work on Prisoner of course!), which is all the more remarkable given that she really had quite a comparatively small role in that.
Although as one of my all-time favourite actors Gordon Jackson once classily remarked to his Upstairs, Downstairs co-star Jenny Tomasin (the legendary Roo-bee!) when she coyly said to him she only had a very small part in that show after he’d given her a box of chocolates because it was her first telly (awwww!), “Och, there are no small parts, only small actors!”
Ilona definitely bore that out in her work on Sara Dane in really shining in such a comparatively minor role, as I’d say that Logie was richly deserved, especially for one particular scene towards the end of the piece that I won’t spoil for anyone who hasn’t had the chance to see it. I think Sara Dane is worth a look, especially if you’ve seen Against The Wind, because I think it’s interesting to compare the two from a historical perspective.
Plus as I’ve said before it’s always fun to see what people are capable of in other things, as aside from Ilona there are a few other familiar Prisoner faces, including Sean Scully, Jackie Woodburne and even Amanda Muggleton putting in an entertaining turn as an Irish pub landlady (Amanda also interestingly worked as dialect consultant on the series) not to mention Barry Quin and Peta Toppano playing husband and wife.
On the subject of Barry Quin and Peta Toppano, I can’t help myself but digress from my digression (plus ca change!) and mention this, because quite a while ago I found a really cheesy advert they did for Schweppes, presumably some time back in the early 1980s, that somebody uploaded to YouTube! The funniest thing about it was that, on the comments to the original upload of it (not the one I've linked there, unfortunately) somebody had added a comment that they were a Schweppe and related to the founder. Somebody else replied, “Are you bubbly?!” Ho ho! Well it made me laugh! YouTube rocks!
Both series have their own merits, but if I had to choose between Sara Dane and Against The Wind, I’d say that Against The Wind has the edge, mainly because I cared more about the characters in Against The Wind and for me although it’s the older of the two series, I reckon it has more of a polish.
There are heaps of fabulous cameos from Prisoner actors and actresses in that too, too many to list really, but worth a special mention would be Kerry McGuire, everyone’s favourite Swede in Prisoner Arna Johannsen (well, she sure did make Bob Morris’s moustache curl!) who I thought was really outstanding in ATW, for which she too picked up a well deserved Logie in 1979. What a talented cast we really have in Prisoner!
Speaking of which, I was laughing at the time I was watching this because I was nattering away to one of my friends about it and the whole thing got completely out of control with our acronyms for everything, between ATW for Against The Wind and AWT for that wonderful Sheila Florance film A Woman’s Tale! LOL you might say, or WTF, depending on your disposition!
Anyway, I could never tire of the toastie opening to each episode of ATW, “Yet freedom, yet thy banner, torn, but flying, streams like the thunderstorm against the wind…” and the groovy soundtrack, “If I were a minstrel, I’d sing you six love songs, to tell the whole world of the love that we share…” What television was made for!
Although on the subject of soundtracks, something noteworthy about Sara Dane in this respect is their use of the same library of incidental music as you find on Prisoner and Sons & Daughters, although I’m afraid I’m not technical enough to be able to name the tracks for the Prisoner fans who take an interest in this kind of thing!
Back to Ilona, just after or around the same time as Sara Dane, I think she was also brilliant as the flighty mother of none other than Sigrid Thornton in the ABC’s excellent First World War epic 1915. Another of Ilona’s co-stars in that, Adrian Wright, who turned in a couple of really solid performances in Prisoner too as Vera’s crooked cop Graham Lang and psycho nurse Neil Murray, picked up another well earned Logie for his work on 1915 the same year as Ilona got hers for Sara Dane.
There's a particular scene in it which is juicily apt in light of what I promise I'll eventually get around to talking about today (!) where Sigrid and Ilona's characters are watching a fireworks display to mark the outbreak of the war. Sigrid's character asks her mother, "Do you ever get a premonition, Mum?" and Ilona's character replies, "All the time darling - I try to ignore them..." Well of course you get premonitions all the time, you're Zara Moonbeam in Prisoner!
Seriously though, I think 1915 is interesting to compare with Channel Nine’s later production set in the First World War, Anzacs, which was another series in which I thought Ilona was really convincing, in an interestingly layered role, conveying the conflict of emotions and loyalties of her character as she agonised about her son (the main character, Andrew Clarke – who of course had little cameo in Prisoner himself as ‘mark one’ of Judy Bryant’s son-in-law, Geoff Maynard) being in harm’s way and her feelings about the war.
I’d say that while 1915 lacks the sweep of Anzacs (actually what impressed me about Anzacs was the attention they paid to the oft-overlooked but absolutely vital role Australian forces played on the Western Front in France, particularly in 1918), 1915 is still one of the best quality period mini series I’ve seen from Australia, along with Brides of Christ, A Fortunate Life and The Harp In The South/Poor Man’s Orange, in terms of its evocation of that period of time and setting, the characterisation and uncompromising storylines, not to mention the strength of the performances as an ensemble really.
Just before her Prisoner role, (I am getting there, I promise!) Ilona also popped up in Utu, a great little Kiwi film set against the backdrop of the Maori troubles of the 19th century, which is fab if you want to see her running around blasting off a shotgun like Annie Oakley!
I think that’s a gem of a film actually (as I’ve found that most films to be that I’ve come across from ‘The Land of the Long White Cloud') not only in terms of examining a turbulent time in New Zealand’s history in a fairly balanced fashion, but also in the powerful way that it explores the concept of revenge, singing from my song sheet in this respect that I don’t think the often short term gratification that can be gained from revenge is ever really worth the long term consequences, especially with regard to the knock on effect it can have on other people.
I’ve found certainly within my own experience that it’s much healthier just to let go any wrong that you perceive has been done to you, because two wrongs sure don’t make a right, however justified you feel you are for retaliating. As Gandhi said, “The trouble with an eye for an eye is that everyone ends up blind.”
But then that’s just the big old starry eyed softie that I am! Altogether now, “What the world needs now is love sweet love, it’s the only thing that there’s just too little of!” Take a bow, Mr Burt Bacharach! It’s a wonder that I love Prisoner so much really in that so often it’s about people inflicting all manner of unpleasantness on one another for the sake of retribution! Go figure that one out, Dr Weissman! Well in my feeble defence I do tend to favour the more fluffy characters who lean more to my way of thinking (and beyond!) on the forgiveness spectrum!
Anyway, all this talk of revenge leads me *finally* to the point of what I want to cover today, the fabness of Zara Moonbeam’s visit to the show, especially in terms of the explosive chain of events she ignites, leading to that stunning revenge wreaked in the dramatic twist at its climax. Phew! That must win some kind of award for most rambling preamble ever! If you’re still with me, give yourself a Mexican Wave, as I’m not even sure whether *I’m* still with me!
I just really wanted to give Ilona Rodgers a proper big-up because I reckon she’s a reliable, versatile, indeed often incredibly fine actress, regardless of the material she’s given to work with, certainly in anything I’ve seen her do, and I think that, perhaps partly because some people scoff at the character of Zara Moonbeam, and/or the actual storyline surrounding her itself, the actress herself is sometimes underrated too, IMO. One thing that makes me smile is that I’ve seen her given pelters for her “unconvincing” Yorkshire accent as Zara in Prisoner when, apart from the fact that it sounds fine to my ear, according to her IMDB profile she originally hails from Harrogate in Yorkshire!
Personally, I adored everything about this character from the minute she wafted into Wentworth, all ankhs and auras and sporting the peasant look years before its time! Dave Worthington, always a punchy writer I think, had a field day with introducing her to the series in episode 362, with pithy puns (try saying that with a lisp!) abound!
This kicks off with some brilliantly corny exchanges in the dining room. The women are clustered around her agog as she patiently explains how she was able to communicate with her spirit guide who’d actually been dead for 400 years, “There’s no such thing as death, his spirit simply passed onto another plane…”
I love Maxine’s retort, “Yeah? Was it a jumbo or a DC10?!”
I love it too when Maxine asks her whether she can tell fortunes and Zara replies vaguely, “I’m more receptive to messages from beyond, but I do have limited sight…” to which Phyllis scoffs, “You’ll have to lend her your glasses, Lizzie!”
What I think is excellent though is the way Ilona Rodgers holds your attention and really makes Dave Worthington’s words come alive, especially in the sequence where Zara responds to Phyllis’s incredulity, as the camera pans back:
“How can you not believe? I mean, don’t you believe that the sun rises every morning? That Spring follows after every Winter? That flowers come from a tiny little seed? It’s just the way things are…”
I love how most of the women are mesmerised by her, but Nola McKenzie isn’t buying it, tittering about how gullible they are, with Zara insisting that she does have “the gift” and Nola retorting dryly, “Yeah…the gift of the gab!”
After she leaves, Zara sighs conspiratorially, “Ah there’s a dark cloud that follows that woman! Death follows her from afar!” Not so far, as it materialises!
There’s another wonderfully meandering build up to a funny (if not exactly subtle!) pay off in a scene leading on from this in the laundry, where again the women are all gathered around Zara relating the circumstances surrounding how she ended up in Wentworth, after she’d “conned some clown into paying her for a phoney séance!” as Phyllis sneers.
Zara explains how she had a client who was a widower who was trying to get in touch with his wife and she was “just trying to help him.” Lizzie asks her what happened and she replies that she’d had sessions with him before, cueing Phyllis to reply saucily, “Yeah I’ll bet you had!”
Zara goes on to claim that it had all been a mistake as she’d been trying to contact the man’s wife as he was desperate to get her approval because he wanted to marry his secretary.
Amazed, Lizzie exclaims, “Gawd, he sounds a bit screwed up too!” to which Maxine joshes, “Yeah, so was his secretary!”
Zara continues, “And then all of a sudden I had a bad phase. Oh, the planets were all out of line (I know the feeling, Zara!), and I…I lost the sight!”
Running with her theme, Phyllis chortles, “I told you you’d go blind!”
My favourite moment is the…(dare I say?!)…climax (sorry!)…to all of this as Zara starts to tell them how she set up the bogus séance, “Oh I did lightning and I had a machine to send vibrations through the table…it was all going okay and then all of a sudden he got suspicious and turned the light on…” but Maxine cuts in, “…And there…under the table…was his secretary with the vibrator!”
Well really! Dave Worthington, how very dare you write such a line?! And there was me thinking this was a family show! Or maybe…not!
After all this hilarity, I love Joan’s first encounter with Zara, not holding back of course as to what she makes of her, barking, “What are you doing in here Moonlight or whatever your stupid name is?!”
This leads on to a corker of an exchange between the two of them after Joan pursues her down the corridor. I think this is one of my favourite personality clashes in the show in terms of two characters such stratospheres apart (alongside maybe Joan trying to deal with Barbie Cox much further on in episode 586 of the show – that oft-quoted, “Naughty naughty, Miss Ferguson!”).
Joan is trying to give Zara a gentle reminder in her Joan-like fashion that she is actually in prison funnily enough and can’t go wandering around as she likes (especially now that Erica Davidson isn’t in charge! Ho ho!), however Zara breezes, “My body might be behind bars but my spirit is free!” triggering a rapier retort from Joan, “Oh then is that so? Well we better tie you down in case you start floating around your cell!”
Say what you will about Zara, but I will award her bravery points for declaring to Joan, in one of my all-time favourite single lines in Prisoner, “Oh you have an aura of repressed guilt and aggression!” Fair play, Zara!
Even without her ankh (very painful when you’ve lost your ankh!), Zara’s still leading a charmed life as she gets away with a warning from Joan not to let her catch her at any of her “cheap circus tricks” again!
Ah, but from all this froth and bubble, things move on in the next episode with an ill-starred augury of things to come, as Lizzie tries to encourage Zara to perform a séance for them, but Zara warns, emphatically, “Now listen, faking a séance for a customer, now that’s one thing, but playing around with it for real can be very dangerous…”
Lizzie assures her they’d take it very seriously, however Zara insists, with some prescience in light of what is to come, “But you become too involved. I mean it stops you making decisions. You can’t live life without consulting the spirit world for guidance. It becomes, well it becomes like a drug…”
This prompts an arch jibe from Nola, leaning lugubriously on the steam press, “Really? How’d you like to go on commission? 20 cents for a friend, 50 cents for a relative and a dollar for a night with Elvis!”
Oooh, funnily enough, Santa also brought me a shiny new laptop computer (lucky Lily!) and I’m finding Windows Vista a bit scary biscuits as I’m getting used to it, but what I do love is all the widgets you can have on the sidebar along the side of your screen. I’ve downloaded an incredibly useful spook-o-meter for it, which detects when the spirit of Elvis is in the vicinity! According to my spook-o-meter he’s generally around at least once a day so he’s getting to be like an old friend! Thankyouverymuch!
Yes, well, ahem, moving on…there’s so much I enjoy about the character of Zara, especially in terms of what’s to come, but something I especially love is how she sets up such a wealth of dry (and not so dry!) one-liners during her time in the show.
There are more portents of what lies ahead when a little later Zara does a Tarot reading for Bea. She pulls out the Hangman card, but explains that’s not necessarily a bad thing, depending on which cards surround it, but then dramatically draws the Death card. She tells Lizzie that this means that “somebody close by is living under the shadow of a very violent death…”
Although as anyone who knows anything about Tarot cards could tell you, the Death card actually rarely signifies the actual physical death of a person, in fact it can be quite a positive card in indicating something coming to an end and a transition to a new beginning with an improved sense of self-awareness as a result. Hark at Mystic Lily in the corner! Still, the use of the Death card in films and television in an ominous fashion is always a good dramatic device!
Of course, given that it’s known that somebody close by is living under the shadow of a hangman’s noose, you wouldn’t have to be psychic to predict that, which is essentially what Nola scoffs at!
But Zara is adamant that Nola has nothing to be so blasé about, insisting, “If I were Nola I wouldn’t be laughing…that card concerns the future, not the past…and I’d say the very close future!”
So would I Zara, so would I! In just a handful of episodes in fact!
After this groundwork in introducing Zara to the show, the action ratchets up a gear in episode 364 with Joan providing the first tangible hint that something’s afoot in a little chat she has with Nola McKenzie, her partner in crime, up in solitary – I love these atmospheric little moments, and Maggie Kirkpatrick and Carole Skinner have such presence as actresses that they carry them off so well, I think.
The air is thick with infamy (“Infamy, infamy, they’ve all got it in for me!” – sorry for ruining the moment, it’s still panto season in the UK!) as the two villains conspire away, Joan assuring her that there was method in her apparent treachery of seeing her consigned to solitary, in that maintaining the perceived distance between them was a means of preserving their business relationship, promising her she won’t be in solitary for long, adding, “…if everything goes according to plan I’ll soon be in a position to do what I like here, without anyone to report on it. That’s why I can’t afford any link between us.”
Giving a nod to her ultimate prize she avows that after that, “Then…we get around to frying the big one. We’re going to get rid of Bea Smith once and for all!”
Her evil plan kicks off, ever so subtly in that it just seems like more of Zara’s zaniness, with Bea clocking Zara acting strangely in the laundry (well, even stranger than normal!), complaining of a throbbing headache which she claims usually signifies somebody trying to contact her from the other side.
I really love how the tone of this very quickly shifts, from Bea’s initial amusement at Zara’s antics, dismissing all “this spook stuff” as a “pretty good lurk” and peppering the exchange with lighthearted comebacks, including deciding that it would be very handy if you were married, “I’m sorry darling, not tonight…there’s a spirit trying to contact me!”
In a heartbeat, the mood sours though, as undaunted by the general derision Zara persists and tells Bea that the message she has is from Debbie. Bea grabs her arm and serves her a Bea-style verbal bashing, “Now you listen to me. You can play silly buggers with the rest of them if you want to, but don’t you start playing dangerous games with me because I won’t stand for it!”
What is especially interesting in all of this is Zara’s response to this, as she does seem genuinely surprised by the vehemence of Bea’s reaction, and does appear shocked when Lizzie explains to her that Debbie was Bea’s daughter, almost as if she doesn’t know at this stage exactly what she’d been prompted to do – she’s just been given the information to feed to Bea. I think it’s an interesting little bit of subtext if you like to read it that way.
A little later, unconnected to the main thread of the storyline, there’s a bit of light relief in another excellent one-liner from Joan as Zara makes a sharp exit from the laundry, “Just watch where you’re going, Moonbeam. I thought you’d have known I was coming, or haven’t you dusted your crystal ball lately?!”
Bea is incandescent at Zara’s antics, convinced initially that one of the women must have leaked the information to Zara, but when pressed by her in Zara’s absence they all deny any involvement. On Zara’s return, in a passionate confrontation, Zara is resolute when Bea tries to force her into telling her who put her up to it, “Look, I know that you think I’m a fake, but you’ve got to trust me Bea, because I do have spiritual powers. I don’t quite understand them myself but I know not to fight them. Debbie…”
Bea cuts in fiercely, “IS DEAD!”
Undaunted, Zara insists, “Only her body Bea. The spirit never dies and the spirit can’t rest when there’s something troubling it and that’s what’s wrong with Debbie now. You’ve got to talk to her!”
Bea continues to fight against it, eventually being driven into giving Zara a good slapping, but this marks a turning point, as from this, after the situation has calmed, they reach a rapprochement, treating us to a rare example of Bea showing any contrition for her actions in that she does apologise to her.
This finally provides Zara with an opening to hook Bea in, with Bea finally willing to listen to what Zara has to say, just for the sake of what she hopes will be peace of mind, to stop Zara worrying away at all that unresolved pain Bea has worked so hard to project away from her as part of her self defence mechanism against her own inherent vulnerability.
So Zara starts apparently channelling Debbie, winning my prize for today for stating the obvious, as she begins, “The first thing she stays is you won’t believe it’s her!”
I love the way Bea rolls her eyes and mutters dryly, “Shrewd little spirit…”
However Zara grabs her attention by providing a really personal snapshot of Debbie’s childhood, in relating a story of her cuddly toy whose ear fell off when she was on her way to hospital to have her appendix removed and how she wouldn’t carry on until Bea had sewn it back on.
After hooking her, Zara then reels her in, in this key scene in terms of the development of this storyline, in telling a pain wracked Bea that her daughter didn’t overdose - “she’d never do that” – thereby pushing Bea’s buttons in that she’s been carrying so much guilt around inside her for so long that she was in some way responsible for her daughter destroying herself, and she’d so want to believe that Debbie wouldn’t be capable of doing that to herself.
For me, the genius of this storyline, following the path of Joan’s almost unspeakably evil plan to annihilate her arch adversary, is that the subtext of Bea’s backstory, what makes her the person she has become, so richly woven into the lore of the early part of the series, is used so deftly, not to mention utterly mercilessly, against her.
The plot gets even darker and more malicious when Zara goes so far as to allege that Debbie was actually held down as heroin was pumped into to her arm. Leaving a devastated Bea desperate to know more, guilt-ridden at what she has just done, Zara says feelingly, “I’m sorry Bea, really sorry…”
That Joan is the sinister hand behind all of this is revealed when she spies Zara in the corridor and questions whether she’s done “everything” that she wanted. An overwrought Zara snaps, “I’ve just left Bea Smith in pieces in there after telling her her daughter was murdered! Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Joan smirks with self satisfaction, “For a start…you’ve done well. I’ll give you that…”
I remember being really chilled by the evilness of this when I saw this the first time around, as (being a bit slow on the uptake!) I hadn’t sussed what was really going on here and that it was all the malevolent machinations of the Freak! So much of what I love about Prisoner is the power of certain scenes to take you right back to your feelings the first time you experienced them, regardless of your number of repeat viewings and the passing years (hark at Old Mother Time!).
In answer to Zara asking her whether she can go now, Joan adds in that quietly menacing way of hers, “For now…but don’t sleep too heavily. You’ll be getting a visitor later tonight. (*EEK!*) And Moonbeam…this is only the beginning…” Uh-oh!
I love the unusual overhead shot at the close of this scene. I do enjoy it when Prisoner thinks beyond the box and experiments with different sorts of camera angles and is inventive with various bells and whistles in terms of the production style, of which you can find evidence right through the series, all the more remarkable when you think of the work that must’ve gone into turning over the volume of television they produced, especially given the dynamics of Prisoner and what a high energy show it is. The easiest thing in the world would be to take the line of least resistance and just churn it out, but they didn’t always, and much kudos to them for that!
So, as promised, Joan pays Zara one of her infamous night-time visits. I love the sinister way Joan patrols the corridors in this era of the show, like a grey shark stalking her next prey, treating us to so many atmospheric moments of television, the footsteps echoing slowly, deliberately, down the darkened halls of Wentworth, a jingle of keys swung casually by that black gloved hand rattling in a lock and then another poor soul is in for her special attention!
She tells her, “You gave such a good performance before I’m going to let you do an encore…”
Zara’s reluctant to risk the wrath of Bea but Joan hammers it home to her, hissing, “Now you listen to me. There is no risk providing you do what you’re told to do. Now, I’ve put a lot of work into this. It wasn’t easy getting hold of Debbie’s school friends and finding those snippets of information and I’m not going to let anything stop me!”
I love Joan’s rebuff when Zara continues to fret over the consequences of Bea discovering what they’re up to, “Your little crystal ball should have told you that you’ve got more than Bea Smith to worry about!”
So the saga continues as they do their dastardly deed as Joan forces Zara to pay Bea “a little nocturnal visit” in the guise of Debbie’s spirit. I guess I can understand how people more sceptical than I am raise their eyebrows at this storyline, but I find it plausible that Bea would buy it.
It’s easy to dismiss Bea as a bruiser who’d been hardened by experience and would be far too clued up to fall for a scam like this, but Bea was much more layered than that, as I’ve touched on already, she did have an inherent vulnerability, even tenderness, belying, indeed informing the tough front she worked so hard to project as top dog to the women.
As Ken Pearce says to her back in episode 116, one of my all-time favourite episodes (so wonderfully written as always by Denise Morgan), “You’re a mixture of anger and fury, and a lot of strength. You’re a survivor. But you’ve still got a lot of softness and honesty and warmth. A woman like you is never going to know what it’s like not to feel…”
From the safe distance of the other side of the television screen, it’s easy to look at proceedings objectively and apply the cold light of logic to this plotline, in pondering the plausibility of the usually matter of fact Bea buying into an already proven fraud calling to her in the night pretending to be Debbie, but Bea’s armour had already been pierced by Zara’s earlier performance, tapping into her Achilles heel of all her unresolved guilt and pain surrounding the manner of her daughter’s demise, and the power of suggestion can be a potent force in circumstances like Bea’s.
People believe what they want to believe, and Bea so wanted to believe in that second chance that I’d say that almost anyone would give anything for if they were in Bea’s shoes. As Bea herself admits sadly to Meg, once this storyline has run its course only a handful of episodes later in episode 370, “They say you can only be taken in by something like that if you really want to be…oh and I wanted to be…”
Anyway, as the momentum of this plotline moves on into episode 365, just as a bit of light relief to leaven the tension bubbling away in the main thread of the storyline, there’s an amusing little sequence in the dining room where Zara’s reading Lizzie’s palm.
I’ve had my palm read a few times at the seaside and got incredibly excited about it all, but I must confess that for all I keep an open mind about this kind of thing, to my intense disappointment I haven’t experienced any spookily accurate predictions as of yet! The first time I had my palm read was quite funny, because I was ever so nervous about it as I’d never had it done before.
So the gypsy beckoned me into her tent (well it wasn’t actually a tent – it was at the end of a pier in Blackpool so we would’ve been blown away into next week if it were! – but I’m embellishing for poetic effect!), and rasped, mystically, “Hold out your hand…now crosssss my palm with sssssilveeeeer!” Adding more prosaically, “That’ll be a £5 note love, we don’t give change!”
Well, oh my days, I got myself into such a state because there was I holding my palm out compliantly whilst fumbling away with my handbag and my purse trying to pull out my money with the other, going about this red in the process! And so, as the reading got underway, she pronounced, with truly spellbinding powers of perception, “You don’t handle pressure very well!”
Honestly, how spooky was that?! It was the best £5 I’ve ever spent, I can tell you! I would never have known that about myself if she hadn’t said! (Insert *rolleyes* emoticon in your own heads to emphasise that I’m actually being ironic there!)
Anyway, back to Zara giving Lizzie her reading, peering into her palm, Zara begins, “You’ve certainly led a very full life…”
Maxine laughs, “Yeah…full’s right!”
When urged by Lizzie to tell her what else she can see, Zara declares, “You’ve been close to tragedy, that’s clear…”
I absolutely adore Lizzie’s response to this, to much gales of laughter, “Oh you’re not kidding! I once had the kiss of life from old Vinegar Tits. It took me weeks to get over it!”
As part of the main flow of events, a totally detached, indifferent Bea is brought to task by Ann Reynolds for bashing suspected child killer Denise Tyler, cueing a brilliant exchange in the Governor’s office off the back of this.
Unimpressed, Ann asks curtly whether she has any explanation for what she did, to which Bea reasons that she murdered her own child. Ann begins to argue, “And you’re serving time for double murder so what gives you the right…” but Bea interjects indignantly, “They weren’t kids!”
However Ann counters drolly, “Oh so that makes a difference does it? What a pity they didn’t meet you when they were younger! They might still be alive!”
I must say, that really is one of my favourite quotes from Ann Reynolds, not to mention how it’s an interesting way of looking at that kind of issue from a moral stance. As an Ann fan once said in the Recroom forum, it just goes to show the baddies in Prisoner don’t get all the good lines!
So, rolling her eyes, Bea is packed off to solitary, the pressure really beginning to tell on her at the close of the episode as Colleen finds her cracking up in her cell.
As the action moves on to episode 366, there’s a nice bit of continuity where Lizzie mentions to Zara that Bea used to read tea leaves. I know she only did it for fun and to wield a bit of subtle influence over the women in the very early days of the show (actually I wish they’d explored that aspect of Bea’s character more during the course of the series), but it’s another reason why I feel that Bea’s behaviour in this storyline was actually in character in that she was, at least on some level, already open to this kind of thing.
There’s a lovely scene featuring Zara and Lizzie in the cell at bedtime where Zara, beset by a major attack of conscience at her role in all of this, havers around taking the risk of warning Lizzie about what’s happening to Bea, on the pretext of giving her a tea leaf reading session.
So as she gets Lizzie to begin examining her tea cup, she tries suggesting to her that she can see a heart in the leaves, “which could be a lover…or a friend…” Lizzie takes her up on this so Zara continues leading her subtly, “Now look at the surrounding leaves. Is there anything influencing it? Something that could be harmful to it?”
But *uh-oh!* she’s caught in the act by Joan as she walks in on them! Big gulps all round as she dismisses Lizzie and paces slowly towards her…
In that scarily sinister way of hers, Joan softly asks, “You weren’t trying to tell her anything, were you, Moonie?”
When Zara eagerly denies it, Joan continues, menacingly, the air thick with tension (again, what a treat it is to be able to enjoy the work of two actresses with such great screen presence) “I hope not. ‘Cos I’ve warned you about your carnival tricks! I’d hate to put you on report for disobeying an order…”
Zara gulps that she won’t, which satisfies Joan, as she continues, “Good. We’ll have our own little private séance later when everything’s quiet. I’ll be back to get you then…”
*EEK!* again! Honestly, at her best Joan really eats up the screen – she’s absolutely mesmerising.
And so, in the dead of night, Joan returns to let Zara out to pay another visit to Bea up in solitary in the guise of Debbie. I love the attention to detail of getting Zara to remove her shoes just before she gets there to creep up on Bea as a prelude to her routine. I think it’s a neat touch which adds to the suspenseful atmosphere of the sequence.
As Joan’s maleficent misdeed plays out, the essence of her evil is palpable as she smirks at her handiwork, leaving Bea to cry for her dead daughter, her pain reverberating around the prison. As I’ve said, the very notion of the scheme is almost unspeakable, arguably one of Joan’s cruellest, most diabolical acts during her time in the series.
But it’s still not enough for Joan, as intent on the destruction of her arch foe, she twists the knife further into another torturous day for Bea, handing over a letter of Debbie’s to Nola that she’s acquired.
When Nola asks how she got hold of it, Joan sneers that it was from, “An old school friend of Debbie’s. She thinks I’m trying to arrange for Smith’s release on compassionate grounds…”
Laughing evilly, Nola comments, “It’s not far from the truth. Straight out of Wentworth and into a padded cell…” Boo!
Lightening the mood again (I think that’s what I especially enjoy about the events surrounding Zara’s visit to Wentworth, there’s that wonderful mix of drama and comedy, darkness and light, at which Prisoner at its best so excels), there’s a wonderful little scene in the Governor’s office involving Lizzie attempting to convince Ann that she has ‘the gift’ too.
“I’m the seventh daughter of the seventh son! I’ve had the sight for years!” she assures her!
Peering into the teacup on her tray, she informs her, “I think you’re having a change of job…” How amazingly perceptive, given Ann’s just a couple of episodes into settling into the Governor’s chair!
She goes on to ask her how many children she has, and so Ann tells her that she has two, so Lizzie decides, “Oh yeah…I can see them now…two boys…”
Ann corrects her that she actually has a boy and a girl, to which Lizzie laughs, “Well I was half right!” That you were, Lizzie!
Chancing her arm, she offers to tell her more if she crosses her hand with silver (I hope the going rate was better in Melbourne back in 1983 than it was in Blackpool about 1993!). Funnily enough, Ann declines! I can’t think why! Spooky stuff!
Speaking of spooky stuff, soon after we’re treated to one of my favourite sequences in this whole storyline, which begins lightheartedly as Lizzie and Maxine cook up a daft fortune telling caper.
Maxine enters the rec room like she’s about to do the dance of the seven veils (or rather the seven bathtowels!) and announces dramatically, “Ladies, ladies and ladies…because we have no idiot box tonight we have arranged at great expense to the management for youse all to be entertained by a great psychic person. For the measly sum of 20 cents, you can see into the future as told by Madame Lizette, the Mystic Maid from Malacoota! Youse are all invited to the inner sanctum…otherwise known as cell 4!”
As Lainie boldly coughs up with a whole 5 cents (woo!), she’s bidden by the keeper of the portal (that’ll be Maxine outside the cell door then!), “Enter, oh seeker of wisdom…”
So they’ve somehow managed to cordon off a section of the cell with sheets to fashion a tent effect, and Laine ventures in. I must say I think Lizzie looks quite scary here actually…like something out of Macbeth - Sheila Florance almost achieving her ambition here to be the world’s most famous Shakespearian actress!
Mistily, ‘Madame Lizette’ rasps, “Come in…I am Madame Lizette, Mystic Maid from…”
Laine cuts in, “Yeah, yeah, I know…Malacoota!”
Breaking character, a stunned Lizzie gasps, “How did you know that?!”
I love Lainie’s reply, “Oh I’m psychic!”
Meanwhile, outwith the sanctum, Maxine is making “oohing” noises and tinkling a wind chime “to create the right atmosphere”. That reminds me of a wonderful story my Nan used to tell. She was brought up by her grandparents and around the turn of the last century, in the early 1900s, they worked as caretakers of an abandoned manor house that was reputed to be haunted by the ghost of Guy Fawkes.
Anyway, at dusk, as darkness began to descend, for a laugh, they would both don white sheets and run around the gardens murmuring “Wooooooo!” to frighten the lives out of the courting couples who used the place as a discreet venue for their canoodling! I bet that cooled their ardour! To this day people go on ghost hunting expeditions and conduct paranormal investigations there, and I wonder how much of that is thanks to my Nan’s grandparents kicking it all off by spooking those young Edwardian ladies and gents of so long ago!
They sounded like such fun actually, because my Nan’s granddad could throw his voice, and he worked a lot with horses too (as many people did in those days). Anyway, whenever anyone would go past the field where he looked after the horses, he’d stymie them by throwing his voice as if the horse was talking to them…like Mr Ed before Mr Ed was even a twinkle in his creator’s eye! You see, now you know where I get it from…evidently generations of my family have been as mad as a bag of spanners in a bucket of frogs!
Anyway, back to the spooky antics of Madame Lizette, she gets down to business by announcing, “Let me look in my crystal ball…”
At that, Lainie cries out that something has just bitten her knee. I love Phyllis’s rejoinder, prompting much hilarity all round, “It’s the spirit of Ferguson, she fancies you!”
But what I think is really neat is the effect of the laughter and carry on drifting up to Bea in solitary and merging with the ‘woop woop woop, plinky-plonky’ background music (that’s a technical term for the track, by the way!!!) leading her to hear Debbie calling for her in her own mind, as she deteriorates even further.
The next day, as Bea re-enters the laundry and the women are fussing around her, Nola takes the opportunity to slip Debbie’s note under the sheets on the steam press…
“I wish we could talk together the way we used to. I feel so alone now. Can’t you come to see me? I really need you. Come soon. Love Debbie”
When she reads it of course Bea cracks and drops the note which Nola deftly spirits away to further convince the women that Bea is losing her mind.
Later, in a little tete a tete with Joan as to how things are going, Nola gloats, “Our plan’s working out better than we’d hoped…” explaining, when Joan asks what she means, “…if you push just a little harder I’m sure that you might find that Smith is suicidal. That is if you’re interested…”
Joan takes her up on this, setting the seal on the final act of the deadly game they’re playing with Bea’s mind.
Moving onto episode 367, Bea takes the rap for Denise Tyler’s further bashing, this time at the hands of Maxine and Phyllis (poor old Denise is like a punchbag during these episodes!), and is boomeranged straight back up to solitary again, once more playing right into Ferguson’s hands.
However, after talking to Lizzie, Meg’s convinced that Bea didn’t bash Denise and quizzes her about it up in solitary. Bea’s completely indifferent though even when Meg points out that if that’s the case she shouldn’t be in solitary. I must say we’re treated to some excellent work from Val Lehman during the course of this storyline, with this being only one example, as I think she plays Bea’s detachment here so well, “Here, there, it’s all the same…”
It’s a shame that Val Lehman herself apparently doesn’t regard this storyline very highly, because actually I honestly believe that she gives us some of her very best work during her time on the show as events unfold.
Anyway, back to the action, Meg points out to a still impassive Bea, “Well, the Bea Smith I know wouldn’t be sitting in here for something she didn’t do…”
There’s an interesting echo of Joan’s recent nocturnal activities, in that Meg’s so concerned about Bea that she sneaks Lizzie up to solitary to see her. Lizzie tries to coax her to take her mind off dwelling on Debbie and think of other things, ‘live in the present tense’ as one of my friends would put it, or as Lizzie says, “You’ve gotta live life for the living.”
However, it’s all in vain, as with an air of almost eerie detachment, Bea responds, “Oh no. That’s not true. That’s not true at all…”
And so given Bea’s state of mind Meg talks Ann into arranging for Bea to be released early from solitary, much to Nola and Joan’s irritation.
However, when they discuss how Zara’s going to hold a ouija board session for Bea, Nola confidently assures Joan, “Pretty soon I think she’s going to need some help out. Out of this world if you follow…”
Lizzie makes me laugh when, realising just how far gone Bea is already, she’s urging Zara not to go through with the ouija board reading, “Well tell her you’re not feeling up to it…Tell her your vibrations are buggered!”
Now that *is* very painful when that happens! Nevertheless, in spelling out to Zara in the next breath how concerned she is that Bea may be suicidal yet again underlines that comedy/drama balance that Prisoner and Lizzie in particular strikes so well.
Moving on now to the ouija board session, I wonder how the actors felt about filming that scene, given that it’s generally such a superstitious profession. Indeed, Andrew Mercado relates in his Super Aussie Soaps book that for the filming of the notorious black mass sequence in that classic 1970s soap Number 96, one of the actors apparently absolutely refused to learn his lines, instead reciting them from a cue card, for a segment which involved him having to say the Lord’s Prayer backwards, and another who against his better judgement reluctantly did because he was told he would have to died in suspicious circumstances just a few years later.
Incidentally, I’ve recently fallen head over heels in love with Number 96! I can honestly say, much like Prisoner, I’ve never seen anything quite like it in my entire life and I absolutely adore it! I’d got the film a while ago, which is off-the-hook in its own right, but I recently treated myself to The Pantyhose Strangler Storyline DVD (what a name for a plotline for a start!) and as I consequence I’ve become totally besotted with it, even more so because on some level, in a warped parallel universe sort of a way, the characters of Mummy and Daddy remind me of my own parents as I was growing up!
I’m beside myself hoping that they’ll release more of what’s left onto DVD, and given how so much of the early show has been lost forever (apparently over two years worth!), because it was screened before the days of home video recorders, and like many shows produced in those days nobody thought to keep the master tapes of it, it reminds me how lucky we are that we’ve now got Prisoner preserved in its entirety in the DVD collection – can you imagine a year or two of Prisoner being lost forever?!
Prisoner’s often rightly credited with being groundbreaking, certainly in its depiction of women dealing with women’s issues on Australian television, however, almost a decade before that, Number 96 was fearlessly breaking ground in its own right on prime time television, tackling issues that to this day they mostly wouldn’t dare to go near in any meaningful way in a prime time soap.
Before I go back to my Prisoner, I’ll leave the last word on Number 96 to Andrew Mercado in his Super Aussie Soaps book, especially as Andrew and everyone else on the project have worked so hard to preserve and compile what we have been able to enjoy so far, so that people like me with an interest in the development of Australian television, born after the cameras stopped rolling on it, can have some sense of just how special a show it was:
"What was originally slammed by critics and detractors as being too ridiculous to be real now stands as an amazingly accurate social document of Australia in the 70s. Made before the young and the beautiful would take over television, it is a more real depiction of Australia than any soap that followed. The notorious Number 96 was multicultural, non-ageist and non-judgemental, and there’s never been anything quite like it since.”
Anyway, returning to Prisoner and Zara’s ouija board sequence, I really love the evocative way it is filmed, another instance of Prisoner going beyond production line television, putting more thought and creativity in it than that to enhance your viewing experience. I like the overhead shot of them all with their fingers on the glass as Zara’s urging them to focus on the glass.
The tension mounts as Zara asks if anyone is there and the glass begins to move. I love how this sequence is filmed with off-beam camera angles and intercut with close ups to heighten the unease and capture the volatility of the moment. But the spell is broken after the glass flies off the table and shatters on spelling out the name of Debbie’s friend, leaving Bea likewise in pieces.
After the others have departed, as Joan and Nola gloat over the outcome, it’s all too much for Zara who runs out crying, “Oh for God’s sake why don’t you leave me alone? I did what you bloody wanted!”
Joan mocks dryly to Nola, “Highly strung these supernatural types!”
Moving on to episode 368 now, the events of this episode lay out the final groundwork for the climax to this storyline, with Bea’s state of mind further deteriorating and Joan and Nola plotting to make the zip gun they are hoping will bring about her demise at her own hands.
There’s quite an amusing little line from Nola when she presses Joan for a move to the workshop, but Joan replies bluntly that she doesn’t do the rosters, and so Nola points out, “Well how am I supposed to make a gun? Out of bits of a sewing machine and soap powder?!”
Interestingly, when commenting on this storyline for the DVDs, Val Lehman said that the script actually called for Bea to assemble the gun, but she said that, mindful of the responsibility that actors have to their audience, she refused to be filmed putting the gun together. Although in terms of what made it to screen it’s actually Nola who assembles the gun, so, whether it was originally intended for Bea to be given the pieces to make it herself, not that she’d have been in any fit state of mind to, who knows? Well I guess the people who were there at the time and can remember!
Fair play to her for being so concerned about the consequences of that in terms of people possibly emulating Bea, but then again Prisoner is undeniably a very violent show and the same thing could be argued about the many examples that could be cited of Bea beating people to a pulp and wielding all manner of violence against anyone who crossed her in any way, sometimes on the flimsiest of justifications!
I guess it’s all a question of where people believe the ethical line should be drawn on something like that, if indeed you believe a line should be drawn at all with regard to an adult fictional television show. I’m not even sure what I think myself to be quite honest – I’ve just made my brain hurt trying to decide! I think that I’ve been immersed in Prisoner for so long and just accept it all as part and parcel of what makes the show what it is, and so it’s very difficult to look at it objectively.
Personally, I enjoy Prisoner so much more for the characterisation and some of the wonderful writing and special energy of the show, I just tend to tolerate the violence as being a by product of that and necessary for the dramatic momentum for the type of series that it is. That’s not to say that there aren’t aspects of the show that don’t worry or concern me from time to time, but I’ve just come to appreciate that as part of my Prisoner experience, warts and all, and I don’t love it any the less for all that.
As Glenda Linscott once laughed, “It’s outrageous that we do it and I think it’s outrageous that you watch it!”
I know it’s all so subjective and everyone has their own take it on it, so each to their own and more power to you I say!
Back to the events of episode 368, there’s an interestingly layered scene in the Governor’s office where Ann, suspicious of Zara’s role in Bea’s deteriorating mental state, confronts her about her antics. Zara replies, with Joan breathing down her neck, “She keeps pressing me to make contact with Debbie. I hate doing it, Mrs Reynolds. I can see how it’s affecting her…well, what can I do?”
Joan of course backs her up that she’s been “most concerned about Smith’s mental state…”
However, Ann warns her of the consequences of doing anything to aggravate Bea’s condition any further as she awaits her hearing. I think there’s a lovely bit of subtext being played out on Zara and Joan’s faces during the course of this, which is easy to underrate because it’s not “razzmatazz” acting, but in its own quiet way I think it is effective.
I think there’s another great little moment of tension, this time involving Zara and Nola, with Zara fretting over the bad karma they’re invoking by what they’re doing to Bea, after learning that they’ve sent in a psychiatrist to examine her, evidence that they are pushing her over the edge of sanity, “We’re going to suffer terribly for what we’re doing…”
Nola confidently assures her that nobody will ever know, but Zara emphatically insists (again with some prescience in light of what is imminent!), “Everything we do is known…and will be repaid in kind…”
Nola’s unimpressed though, threatening, “Listen spook, if you’re trying to squirm out of this one you’ll be repaid alright…by Ferguson!”
Zara still worries about it being “so wrong…it’s evil…” however Nola promises, “Tonight’ll be the last time… Look at her (nodding towards a zoned out Bea) – she’s beginning to crack. All we have to do is push her a little bit further. I’ve got a lot to pay her back for…”
Here she makes a very subtle gesture towards her branding which I think underlines Carole Skinner’s command of the craft of television acting in that less is so much more and how the smallest of nuances can carry so much weight. I’d say it takes some courage and individuality to underplay in such a larger than life show amidst such a theatrically dominated cast, not to mention charisma to be able to carry it off so well without it being lost in the melee, which is why I rate the likes of Carole Skinner and Mary Ward so highly in terms of their work on the series as I think they’re particularly adept at it.
Anyway, Nola continues, warning Zara in no uncertain terms, “…but if you try and wreck this…I’ll get you! You can count on that!”
Just as a completely unrelated aside, I can’t let this episode pass by without mentioning a vintage Colleen Powell retort after she’s pulled Joan up for tittle tattling to the Governor about her dalliance a short time before with Chris Young, the husband of one of her charges. Joan sweeps out of the staff room sarcastically, “Oh I’m sorry, I keep forgetting how close we all are!” to which Colleen mutters, in that inimitably dry way of hers, “I’d like to remind the bitch…with a sledgehammer!”
Great stuff! :D
Back to the main course of events, things build to a climax at the close of this episode as Joan slips the zip gun that Nola’s made, along with Debbie’s letter, into the pocket of Bea’s dressing gown while she’s off getting her medication. Aha, but just as their evil plan reaches the zenith of its potential, after Zara pays Bea one more nocturnal visit in the guise of Debbie to tipping her further over the edge, there’s a twist as when Lizzie grabs Bea’s dressing gown as she’s being taken to the hospital wing she finds the gun.
Meanwhile, oblivious to this, Joan is ecstatic as she gloats gleefully at what she believes will be the ultimate demise of her arch adversary, “Listen to her, listen to her, we’ve done it!”
So now, unbeknownst to the baddies, with the cat out of the bag, the tide of events begins to turn against them as episode 369 runs its course. After telling her that she too heard the voice of “Debbie” the night before, and moreover that she found the gun, Lizzie gets Zara to admit to her that it was all a scam, although she won’t reveal the Freak’s involvement behind it all.
She assures Lizzie earnestly, “Look, if I’d known what was going to happen I wouldn’t have let them bully me into it,” but Lizzie is resolute, affirming, “Well they’re not going to bully me, the bloody mongrels!” and resolves to warn Bea right away as to just what is going on.
I like the way Nola walks into the shower block after Lizzie departs, and there’s that unnerving little echo of the fate of Paddy Lawson as Zara is washing her face in the sink and that deadly potential for anything to happen. But Zara’s spared as Nola is unsure how much Lizzie knows already anyway, and in any case Zara warns her off any further physical intimidation, threatening, “You lay a finger on me and I swear I’ll tell Mrs Reynolds everything I know!”
Nola dismisses that contemptuously, “You’re off the planet, spook! You know that? I wouldn’t bother dirtying my hands on you. But the Freak? Now that’s another story! If I was you I wouldn’t say anything to anyone. Otherwise she’s going to put you out of this world…permanently!” as indeed Joan herself later serves her a subtle health warning about the dangers of careless talk after she’s been released…
The damage has already been done though, the seeds of the destruction of her evil machinations already sewn, as Lizzie finally gets through to Bea just what Joan, Nola and Zara have been up to and produces the zip gun and note as proof of this.
Bea is absolutely appalled as the reality of it all hits home to her, “God, why would anyone want to do that?”
As Lizzie points out to her, “They wanted you to think that you were mad. They want to get rid of you once and forever.”
Bea sighs sadly, “And they nearly did. Oh Debbie, I was so sure…” she continues, “You’re a good mate Lizzie. You did right…but there’s one other thing I want you to do for me…” as her face hardens ominously…
And so at Bea’s bidding, Lizzie talks Ann into letting Bea see Nola “to make amends to Debbie…”
Zara fret about just what Lizzie’s told the Governor, but Lizzie assures her, “Don’t worry love. I didn’t say a word. Bea’s going to take care of everything…”
And how!
So a slightly bemused Nola enters the sickbay where Bea lies, and gloats at the state she’s apparently in, “The Great Queen Bea! Getting ready to meet your Maker, eh Smith?”
Her amusement is *very* short lived though, as Bea beckons her closer, and murmurs, apparently out of it, “Debbie and Paddy…they’re both waiting…they’re both waiting…”
In the blink of an eye the tone shifts and the expression on Nola’s face changes as she coldly completes the sentence… “…FOR YOU!” pulling out the zip gun that Nola had so ironically made for Bea’s own demise and shooting her right between the eyes, the sequence filmed in slow motion to enhance the stunning effect of it.
Surprise, surprise, the unexpected really did hit her between the eyes! I always half-expect Cilla Black to come out from under the bed in a spangly batwing top and start warbling at that point! Ho ho ho! Sorry, I couldn’t help myself there! For anyone scratching their heads wondering what that’s all about, ask anyone you know who watched TV in Britain in the 1980s to explain it to you!
I guess, on one level, I can feel a little sorry for Nola here up to a point that she took the brunt of Bea’s vengeance (although she had it coming to her for so many things), when she was on the periphery of the plot really.
Joan was the instigator and therefore more deserving of Bea’s bullet, but then again, not that Nola’s departure didn’t leave a massive void, but can you imagine the show without Joan from this point on? Besides, there’s a delicious irony in Nola’s own gun bringing about her destruction, even more so given the lengths to which she’d gone in order to dodge official execution, the summary brutality of her death mirroring the brutality of the life of one of Prisoner’s greatest anti-heroes.
The loose ends of this storyline are tied up in the following episode, 370, which marks the sheepish exit of our shonky psychic from the show. To her credit, she does try to stand up to Joan, in testing her gamely, “Maybe somebody’ll just stand up and say what’s really on around here…”
But of course Joan holds all the cards in that Zara’s trial’s the next day, effortlessly swatting her back down into place, “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to do anything to complicate matters and make trouble between now and then…would you?!”
I love her closing scene with Meg in reception, with its resonance of her introduction to the show, as she declares, “It’s in the cards that I won’t see the inside of this place again after the trial!”
Distractedly, as she sorts through her belongings and papers, Meg replies, “Yes, you’ll probably get off. You’re luckier than some…”
Zara adds airily, “Well, we’re all fate’s victims, one way or another…” prompting Meg to snap, “Don’t you think all that spiritual nonsense has caused enough trouble?!”
She presses her to tell them what really happened with Bea, reminding her that the people she’s leaving behind to their fate are her friends, but Zara’s too weak to risk the wrath of Joan, whimpering, “I can’t take any more trouble. I can’t take it… Please Mrs Morris, you don’t understand. I can’t tell you any more….I just can’t. Please, can I just get out of here now?” as she hastily makes her final departure.
Bea herself is left with a bittersweet victory, remarking sadly to Meg, as I’ve touched on much earlier in this piece, “No more voices…and no more Debbie. They reckon you can only be taken in by something like that if you really want to be…oh and I wanted to be. I thought somehow my daughter and I could be together again. And they made me believe it could happen…and for that, I’ll never forgive them…”
And that’s the essence of why I think this storyline, and the character of Zara Moonbeam as the catalyst of events is just so compelling, and treats us to some of what I believe is Prisoner at its very, very best.
So what starts off airily as another zany character floats her way into the Prisoner pantheon, very quickly sours into one of the show’s darkest plotlines as Joan’s merciless use of the phoney psychic to exploit that one chink in the armour of the battle-hardened top dog - all that unresolved pain and guilt surrounding her daughter’s death, striking at the core of her very being, so woven into the rich tapestry of the early years of the show – gathers momentum. How this ironically ricochets back at those who would dare bring about her downfall, in such a stunning twist, very much the piece de resistance of this rollercoaster ride.
I know some people berate the barminess of the whole premise, but although on one level I actually enjoy that element of it anyway, I can also see beyond that, and I find it absolutely plausible in terms of Bea’s backstory and motivations that she would 110% buy into it, hook, line and sinker, which is what I reckon is so clever about it.
Indeed, for me the handful of episodes surrounding this storyline seem to encapsulate so much of what I love about the series, that blend of comedy and drama, darkness and light, silliness and suspense that time and time again it does so well, all enhanced by some innovative use of television, and what I’d say is amongst some of the best work we’re treated to on the show from the main players in bringing it all to life - Maggie Kirkpatrick, Carole Skinner, Ilona Rodgers and not least Val Lehman herself in particular, with some sterling support from the ensemble of old favourites too.
I’ll always have a soft spot for this era of the show, as this was when I first became hooked on it and grew to really love the series, and in revisiting these episodes and this storyline, I find myself falling in love with it all over again…aaaah!
And on that note I’ll spirit myself away into the ether once more like a Will-o’-the-wisp (or a Lil-o-the-wisp!) and leave you in peace until the next time we meet on this earthly plane…or this here blog page, at any rate!
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