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The Corridor People (TV)
R2 - United Kingdom - Network Review written by and copyright: Paul Lewis (21st July 2010). |
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The Show
 The Corridor People (Granada, 1966) 
An eccentric, parodic and hard-to-define series, each of the four episodes of The Corridor People (Granada, 1966) broadly takes the form of a spy drama, dealing with such issues as corporate espionage (‘Victim as Birdwatcher’) and Cold War-era, ‘Cambridge Five’-style defection (‘Victim as Red’). However, each episode is as obsessed with the medium of television as it is with its plotting, skewering the conventions of films noirs and television police dramas. At the heart of the four episodes that constitute the series is the enquiry agent Phil Scrotty (Gary Cockrell), an American who is so obsessed with Humphrey Bogart that one wall of his office is covered by a large image of Bogart, and in the manner of Jean-Paul Belmondo’s Michel Poiccard in À bout de souffe (Jean-Luc Godard, 1959) Scrotty adopts many of the traits of Bogart’s screen persona. The character of Scrotty seems intended as a parodic interpretation of the private investigator protagonists of many films noirs. At the other end of the scale are two bumbling representatives of Scotland Yard, Inspector Blood (Alan Curtis) and Sergeant Hound (William Maxwell), satirical representatives of the brand of stiff-upper-lipped detectives that populate British crime fiction.  
Scrotty’s principal antagonist is Syria Van Epp (Elizabeth Shepherd), a Persian millionaire who is at the heart of a number of bizarre schemes, including in one episode raising the dead (in ‘Victim as Whitebait’) via a process devised by the archetypal mad scientist Dr Robag (Aubrey Morris). On the other side is Kronk (John Sharp), the controller of the government intelligence agency Department K, who intermittently contract Scrotty to do their detective work. (At one point, in ‘Victim as Whitebait', Kronk asks Scrotty, 'Shall I put you on the payroll again?' To this, Scrotty replies, 'No, No. It's more fun playing both ends off against the middle'.) There are some interesting, almost avant-garde, devices deployed throughout the episodes: making use of the then-new technology of videotape editing, ‘Victim as Birdwatcher’ has a sequence depicting captured millionaire Christopher Vaughan (Tim Barrett) drifting in and out of a diabetic coma, at the behest of Van Epp, with mattes used to cover portions of the screen – a sort of 1960s version of the use of split screen in the modern American series 24 (Fox, 2001-10). Whether these techniques are effective or not remains another point entirely; they are deployed self-consciously, and will most likely be viewed by some viewers as an irritating affectation. In fact, the whole series has an air of the Theatre of the Absurd behind it, with its anarchic tone, its examination of the failure of communication, its postmodern foregrounding of technique and, concomitantly, its strangely abstract and unrealistic settings (Scrotty’s office being a key example), direct address to the audience and lines of Pinter-esque dialogue comically loaded with symbolic intensity.  
In terms of its absurdist approach to its subject matter, The Corridor People is a series very much of its time, and comparisons with The Avengers (ITC/ABC/Thames, 1961-9) are perfectly understandable, especially considering Elizabeth Shepherd’s almost mythic status as the ‘original’ Emma Peel. Its themes are also very much of the era in which The Corridor People was made, with the final episode (‘Victim as Black’) in particular highlighting its relationship with the era in which it was mode, focusing as it does on Scrotty’s uncovering of a plot for ‘black world domination’, and offering an ironic critique of race relations in the era of the Black Power movement. Episodes: 'Victim as Birdwatcher' (46:35) 'Victim as Whitebait' (46:16) 'Victim as Red' (46:35) 'Victim as Black' (46:57)
Video
Shot on monochrome video in a studio environment, The Corridor People has a low-budget aesthetic, with some of the sets almost abstract in their construction. As noted above, the series makes use of some interesting techniques, including experimentation with the technology of video editing. 
The episodes are perfectly watchable, but the tapes are in quite bad shape at times, with some episodes suffering more from wear and tear than others. Contrast levels are inconsistent, with some sequences displaying strong contrast and others taking on a milky appearance – these are limitations of the original material though, and not of this DVD release. The series is presented in its original broadcast screen ratio of 4:3, with the original break bumpers intact.
Audio
Audio is presented via a two-channel mono track. Volume levels are inconsistent, with some lines of dialogue being very quiet and buried by ambient noise – again, it has to be noted that this is a fault of the production rather than this specific DVD release. There are no subtitles.
Extras
The disc includes an Image Gallery (00:46) containing stills from the production of the series.
Overall
An interesting, experimental series, The Corridor People will not be to all tastes. Its self-reflexive nature and use of almost Brechtian distanciation techniques will no doubt alienate some viewers. However, the series is a fascinating time capsule and its almost mythical status (due to Shepherd’s performance as Van Epp and her short association with The Avengers) will no doubt help it find some welcoming viewers. Considering that the series has apparently not been repeated since 1966 and has remained unreleased on any home video format, this release from Network is especially welcome. The series is only available (for the time being) as a web exclusive via Network’s web site. For more information, please visit the homepage of Network DVD.
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