John Drake is a British spy.
In that respect, he's one of a largish club. British spies were "in" during the Sixties; as a result, they dotted the pop-culture landscape. Thanks to James Bond and the continuing Cold War, the world was taken with the notion that British spies were modern masters of derring-do, fighting for right with class and style. The fictional spies that became all the rage at this time quickly assumed a more-or-less common persona that included:
Guns (and deadly accuracy in their use)
Girls (the more the better; brains optional)
Gadgets (preferably arcane and fantastic)
Onto this scene prowled John Drake. Originally he was cast in the same mold as all the others. But John Drake had one thing none of the other fictional spies had: Patrick McGoohan as an alter ego. McGoohan had already turned down the role of James Bond (reported reasons vary, from moral objections to the character to dislike of an unnamed individual involved in the project). He quickly made it clear to the producers of "Secret Agent" that Drake was going to be portrayed his way, or not be portrayed by him at all.
McGoohan, an Irish Catholic, has forged a career notable for the personal characteristics with which he infuses his characters. Drake was to be no exception. The character would not promote "promiscuity" by going from girl to girl. Violence would be neither gratuitous nor glamorized: Drake would fight his battles not with guns but with physical combat. Although quite capable of disabling opponents with whatever force necessary, Drake very rarely killed and preferred to get out of situations by using his mind rather than his fists whenever possible.
In addition to McGoohan's deliberate shaping of the title character, "Secret Agent" benefited from other unusual contrivances built into the show. Gadgetry was kept to a minimum and retained a sense of realism - there would be the occasional microphone - shooting pen and bomb-detecting watch, but generally Drake's electrical and mechanical tools remained simple and functional. Also, Drake didn't fight "supervillains." There was no SPECTRE or THRUSH in "Secret Agent." Drake was an intelligence officer doing his job; he had no arch-enemies who popped up again and again to try to exact personal vengeance. His assignments pitted him against other foreign agents, assorted defectors, the occasional arms dealer or dictator, but few if any demented geniuses bent on world domination. Unlike other spy shows, the antagonists in "Secret Agent" were not all one-dimensional "Commies" or "Russkies," either. Although the threat of Communism was often a factor in the urgency of his work, Drake's assignments just as often took him to British colonies or the Middle East. All of these decisions by the makers of the show gave John Drake a solid dramatic backdrop that has aged remarkably well over the years.
John Drake is a moral man doing an essentially amoral job. He is obviously very good at what he does; but he is no mindless patriot or gung-ho adventurer. Drake clearly believes in principles - individual freedom, personal integrity - that transcend simple allegiance to a government or political philosophy. He also carries with him an unshakable sense of "right" that is wholly separate from ideology or expediency. Those qualities help make him an excellent spy; they also make him a bit of a maverick. Drake can and does question his superiors; he can and does act counter to orders when he feels it is necessary. And he can and does get burned when the realities of his job trample his sense of idealism.
If Drake is to be considered a hero, this is likely his tragic flaw: the lengths to which he will go to preserve his own ideals. At times they lead him to betray others; at times they cause him to become vulnerable to betrayal himself. Drake holds himself to strict standards. Sometimes they are impossible to maintain, or can be maintained only at someone else's expense. The struggle between duty and personal honor is played out over and over again in the show:
Warning: There are spoilers in the following examples!
In "That's Two of Us Sorry," Drake ferrets out a former Communist informer long thought dead, now living a peaceful life as the leader of a Scottish village - only to discover (too late) that he is completely innocent of the crime of which he is accused.
In "Yesterday's Enemies," Drake engineers a deal to arrest the head of a spy ring and take over his network - but when he turns the man over, his own superiors arrange a quick execution instead.
In "Whatever Happened to George Foster?," Drake goes after an influential Lord who is interfering with a struggling democracy in Latin America; when Lord Ammanford uses his influence to threaten Drake's job, he launches on a personal campaign to blackmail Ammanford into doing the right thing.
In "The Outcast," Drake befriends a Navy deserter accused of murdering a WAVE with access to secret codes; after manipulating the man's trust to elicit a confession, he realizes - again too late - that the crime was an act of passion, not espionage.
In "To Our Best Friend," Drake intends to clear a good friend who stands accused of spying for the enemy - and discovers that the real culprit is his friend's wife.
"The Creep"
But John Drake is much more than an earnest victim of good intentions. He is a spy, first and foremost - and ruthlessly skilled at what he does. Occasional moral dilemmas are the price he pays for injecting a sense of conscience into the most Machiavellian of jobs. Every mission he undertakes has a bottom line - and Drake will do what he must do to successfully carry out his orders.
His most potent weapon in that regard may be what might be called "The Creep." The Creep is the side of Drake's personality that allows him to befriend or blindside a suspect with the victim's unwitting complicity. Unlike the moral, compassionate nature at Drake's core, the Creep will willingly deceive, manipulate, and outright lie to others to lull them into a false sense of security.
The Creep generally surfaces in one of two guises: The Nerd and the Smoothie. The best example of the Nerd may be in "Don't Nail Him Yet." In this episode, a Navy staffer is suspected of passing on secret information to the enemy; Drake must discover how and to whom the secrets are being transferred. To accomplish this, he assumes the guise of a mild-mannered teacher, complete with fusty horn-rim glasses and a repertoire of nervous mannerisms. After arranging a "chance" meeting, he systematically befriends the unsuspecting Dennis Rawson. Drake is a perfect nebbish; his increasing intimacy with Rawson appears motivated solely by the loneliness of a socially awkward teacher. Soon Rawson finds he cannot escape the constant, earnest overtures of his new "friend," who always seem to show up just in time to thwart his traitorious intentions. Drake never lets up on his victim: no matter how irritated and uncomfortable Rawson becomes by his actions, he continues to move in, seemingly oblivious to his own grating persona. When Rawson finally discovers Drake's true identity, he is almost relieved.
The Smoothie is just as determined to get what he wants, but presents a less innocent facade. While the Nerd pretends to be an ordinary clod caught up in events he doesn't understand, the Smoothie holds all the cards, and deals them from the bottom of the deck. "Loyalty Always Pays" is a fine example of this aspect of Drake's Creep persona. Searching for evidence of a secret deal between an unnamed African government and the Chinese, Drake is initially thwarted by a locked strongroom. He sets out to gain the unwitting assistance of a British officer working at the State Department. He quickly discovers and exploits his victim's fondest wish: to retire to a genteel English country estate. Posing as a brash businessman, he convinces the officer to help him with a not-quite-legitimate deal in exchange for a comfortable nest egg, then leaves him holding the bag when it collapses. With the threat of dishonor and financial ruin looming over him, the officer reluctantly cooperates with Drake's demand to gain access to the strongroom.
Because the poor officer is not really Drake's intended quarry in "Loyalty Always Pays," he arranges for him to get credit for exposing the secret deal in the end. But when Creeping a legitimate foe, Drake is merciless, and the more personally he takes the offenses of his victim, the harder he hits. Take "No Marks for Servility," in which Drake poses as a butler to expose an international con artist. Gregor is doing rotten land deals with governments that can't afford to be swindled; that kind of exploitation is bad enough in Drake's book, but when he also discovers that Gregor is a bully and a misogynist, the gloves are off. Drake's contempt for his victim shines right through the servility of his role. He is supposed to be in Nerd mode (right down to the glasses), but he quickly switches to Smoothie to bait the arrogant and controlling Gregor.
What follows is one of the greatest scenes in any "Secret Agent" episode, and one which illustrates how thin a skin the Creep persona stretches over Drake's true nature. Gregor, after asking Drake to fix him a drink, relentlessly taunts and browbeats his "butler." Drake, mindful of the role he is supposed to be playing, reins in his temper - barely. He continues making his master's drink, silently accepting the barrage of criticisms of his performance as a servant. Gregor's barbs grow more pointed and personal. Finally, the glass in Drake's hand shatters - in his rage he has squeezed it to the breaking point. As Gregor's wife tends to Drake's injured hand, clearly taking his side against her abusive husband, he shoots Gregor a look of cool triumph. Although the story is not over at this point, Drake has cleearly gained the upper hand.
Drake and Women
Other than a few chaste pecks on the cheek or the forehead, John Drake never kisses a woman in "Secret Agent." Far from appearing promiscuous, he seems to have no sexual interest in women at all. He is undeniably atrractive to them - female characters regularly comment on the blue of his eyes and the handsomeness of his face - but Drake's reaction to feminine admirers ranges from polite rebuff to bored disdain.
That's not to say, however, that Drake doesn't care about women. He does. He is a genuinely gallant individual (when he's not being a Creep) who admires intelligent, strong women and treats them as equals rather than as objects of desire. He has a special affinity for older women, which is sometimes touching and other times, frankly, bizarre.
Drake's attitude toward women is frustrating to those who would relate to him through wiles and emotional manipulations - he won't bite. He responds to flirtation with gentle sarcasm or, when it becomes blatant, with stammering demurral. (There are entertaining examples of both in "The Mirror's New.") But when a woman attempts to use sex to coerce or entrap Drake, he slaps it away with a distinct lack of subtlety (as he does in "The Galloping Major"). It is almost as if it's not the sexual come-on he objects to, but the insult to the intelligence of both parties that such transparent manipulation represents.
Patrick McGoohan has seldom played a romantic lead in his career, and there has been much speculation about his own attitude toward women and sex (he has been accused of misogynism, prudishness, and rampant eccentricity, among other things). But whatever informs this aspect of Drake's personality, it works for the character. His respect for women frequently influences his actions, and his apparent understanding of the female psyche humanizes him in sometimes unexpected ways. When Drake is moved to act outside his orders, for example, his desire to spare a woman from pain is often involved. (See "Yesterday's Enemies," "A Room in the Basement.") Similarly, the presence of a woman in distress seems to spur him to take greater personal risks, or at least to pursue justice on a more personal level (see "Colony Three," "The Black Book," "Shinda Shima"). Finally, because his efforts on behalf of women are divorced from any expectation of sexual reward, his own sexuality is abstracted to a level that adds to the enigmatic quality of his character. (As hard as other spies of the time tried to cultivate an air of mystery, their motivations generally became crystal clear with every post-caper liplock.)
Is Drake Number 6?
Patrick McGoohan walked away from "Secret Agent" in 1966 to begin work on a new project: "The Prisoner." To many fans of this landmark show, investigations into the character of John Drake begin and end with one question: Is Number 6 John Drake? (The question can just as easily be inverted: Is John Drake Number 6?)
Arguments for and against this proposition are varied, but all boil down to this: "Secret Agent" was a show about a spy, played by Patrick McGoohan. "The Prisoner" was a show about a spy, also played by McGoohan, who resigns from his job and is spirited away to a mysterious prison called the Village. Drake and Number 6 have similar temperaments (which may be due more to McGoohan's strong hand in creating both characters than anything else), and they obviously look exactly alike. Since one show directly followed the other, is it logical to conclude that "The Prisoner" picks up where "Secret Agent" left off?
McGoohan has steadfastly maintained that Number 6 was never intended to be a continuation of Drake. But from a practical standpoint, he can't really maintain otherwise, as he doesn't own the character. In any event, the co-creator of "The Prisoner," George Markstein, has repeatedly stated that, in his mind at least, Number 6 was always intended to be the post-resignation John Drake.
There is convincing evidence for both arguments. In several episodes of "Secret Agent," we see Drake express frustration with the moral conflicts inherent in his position. Although we never find out why Number 6 resigned from his Service (withholding his reasons from his captors is one of the central conflicts of "The Prisoner"), the show strongly hints that he had reached a moral crisis point with regard to the nature of his job. Drake and Number 6 share strong beliefs in personal liberty that transcend mere patriotism, and their attitudes toward women are similar. (The Village learns early on that Number 6 is easily persuaded to come to the aid of a "lady in distress.")
But the characters have distinct differences, as well. Some are merely cosmetic: They live in different homes, drive different cars, report to different superiors. (These could also be due to the practical matter of ownership of the show.) But some of the divergence goes deeper than that. Drake and Number 6 have different personalities in many respects. Number 6 seems more cynical, more arrogant, and less empathetic than Drake. His sense of humor is blacker and less refined; he has a greater tendency to brood. He is more likely to wear his emotions on his sleeve, whereas Drake is not only less emotional but also less expressive of his feelings.
Of course, all of these differences could represent the change that comes over Drake as a result of his imprisonment. Certainly the Village is a breeding ground for the bleakness that seems to characterize Number 6's personality. The Prisoner could reasonably be considered the product of Drake's resistance to his captors - and of the spiritual breakdown that led to his resignation in the first place.
This writer will cop out on offering an opinion. There is no easy answer. For one thing, it is easier to watch John Drake and accept his eventually becoming Number 6 than it is to watch "The Prisoner" and see vestiges of Drake in Number 6. (The actor in McGoohan undoubtedly would have compelled him to create a distinct character, even if the intention was to produce a de facto sequel to "Secret Agent.") Secondly, the question is more important to an appreciation of "The Prisoner" than of "Secret Agent." (After all, "The Prisoner" didn't exist when "Secret Agent" was made.) Finally, although it's appealing to imagine the transformation of one character into another, keeping Drake and Number 6 separate in one's mind allows an appreciation of both characters (and their respective shows) on their own merits.
