Emma Peel (played by Diana Rigg) (surveying an antique bed): “I've always rather fancied myself in one of these."John Steed (played by Patrick Macnee): “So have I—I mean, I have, too."—The Avengers, Episode 83, “Too Many Christmas Trees,” U.K. airdate December 23, 1965, U.S. airdate August 11, 1966, written by Tony Williamson, directed by Roy Baker
When I Googled “The Avengers,” the overwhelming number of initial hits concerned a summer 2012 movie gathering together Marvel Comics superheroes. (Sigh): If Google forgets all about the tongue-in-cheek British spy-fi series of the same name, the technology that changed the world not only has no memory, but no conscience.
As a young boy in the mid-to-late Sixties, when The Avengers first aired stateside, innuendo-rich dialogue such as the above flew right over my head (or, if you prefer another cliché, under the radar). Ditto for those knowing smirks between oh-so-dashing Steed and “Mrs. Peel.”
(Question: Who was Mr. Peel? More to the point, where was he, when his wife went around saving Great Britain and Western civilization from the world’s oddest bunch of baddies—that is, when she wasn’t flirting like crazy with her bowler-attired male partner from the cryptically named “Ministry”?)
But one thing did make an impression on me: Emma Peel was not to be messed with. Steed, already middle aged, preferred foiling supervillains with his hat, umbrella, or some stratagem. Emma wasn’t averse to using her brain, but she was younger and far more athletic than Steed, who seemed positively delighted when she handled the rougher stuff.
That black-leather suit of hers radiated power from every pore, in a way it never did on Barbara Gordon, a.k.a. Batgirl on Batman, the campy American show to which I gave allegiance during these years. Batgirl was a sideshow to the Dynamic Duo, a librarian out for a little fun in fighting bad guys under the nose of her crime-fighting Gotham dad.
In contrast, any guy who dared to do something stupid with Mrs. Peel risked dismemberment at her hands. And that was only one part of its quirky appeal. As noted by blogger Tansy Rayner Roberts: “the joy of the show is in the banter, the dialogue, the beautifully tailored clothes, and the odd not-quite-speculative-fiction crimes and mysteries to be solved.”
More than a decade later, I watched Diana Rigg in a TV special in which she played Regan, one of the two evil daughters to Laurence Olivier’s King Lear. So lasting—and glorious—was the impression she made from years before that I half expected her to karate-chop the poor, foolish monarch.
Oh, sharper than a serpent’s tooth, to be done in by the ex-Mrs. Peel! What a way to go!
No comments:
Post a Comment