AFTERWORD

Growing up in Australia, the colour Emma Peel episodes were “The Avengers” – they were shown
repeatedly over the years – and still are today – an honour not accorded to any other era of the
show. These magical, glittering prizes of a distant Sixties England that never truly existed were a
beacon in the dark hours of the time slot then given to old TV shows.

I first saw them, aged 9, in 1977 CHECK DATE when they were thrust back into prime time by TCN 9,
in response to the success that the government-owned broadcaster, ABC, was having with “The New
Avengers”. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, so I found myself more entranced with these
glorious films than with the brash new affair (although I made sure never to miss Purdey and
Gambit’s latest exploits). Like most young boys, I instantly fell in love with Mrs Peel.

Ironically, TCN 9 had only recently acquired the rights from the ABC in 1977, after coveting
them for years. The general manager on TCN 9 went so far as to complain in the press in
1967 CHECK DATE about the ABC being allowed to have such a show, as it affected their
commercial enterprise for the national broadcaster to have the highest rating show in the
country. Channel 9 still makes the same complaints today, nearly fifty years later.

“The Avengers” was an overnight success in Australia. Even before the first Cathy Gale
episode was shown , the papers and magazines were agog in anticipation. The women’s
magazines featured Cathy’s new hats and striking leather clothes. Australian extras in the
show, like Valerie Taylor who appeared fleetingly in two episodes, were elevated to a higher
plane and the minutiae of their homes were printed in the same magazines that adored
Cathy’s hats. It was not until Australia started looking to America instead of Europe, that the
halo slipped from their lofty brow.

“The Avengers” were so popular in Australia in 1967 CHECK DATE, winning every ratings
survey, that the then Leader of the Opposition, Gough Whitlam, complained when the ABC
refused to change the timeslot in order to screen a Labor Party political broadcast which was
on all the other channels at the same time. He contended this meant nobody saw the
broadcast, as they all watched “The Avengers” then switched to another channel. He was
probably right. Nowadays, it’s the conservative politicians who complain about the ABC.

Worn, scratched and chopped-down for more advertising breaks, the Australian broadcast
masters have suffered greatly over the years – to the extent that the scene in “Return of the
Cybernauts” where Australia’s favourite ex-pat actor, Bud Tingwell, was captured by the
cybernaut was entirely missing, affording the station a couple minutes more of advertising
revenue. These cuts were made after the masters left ABC, as the government station is
forbidden to show commercials, and when cable TV acquired the rights from NBN 9, as it
had become, they faced a barrage of complaints about the incomplete episodes and had to
source new masters. NBN 9 has regained the rights following the demise of Nickelodeon but
is thankfully showing new prints, albeit on their new digital side channel.

So what is it about these episodes that makes them so special? They are unlike anything that ever
came before them, and certainly unlike anything we’ve seen since. Phillip Levene, the principal
scriptwriter for the series, and Brian Clemens, the enfant terrible producer and guiding hand of the
show opted for a change of pace. Gone are the dour plots of the early years, gone the menace of the
Cold War and humdrum smugglers. In their place is comedy, pure and simple. The plots are still
action-based spy stories, but overwhelmingly with the tongue now firmly lodged in the cheek. The
lovable eccentrics and diabolical masterminds of the previous series have been magnified to
extremes.

The villains are now outré caricatures, the eccentric red herrings even more so. Every nuance of
meaning is instilled into these films. “The Avengers” has turned into a cartoon – sometimes literally,
as in “The Winged Avenger”. But it’s more than that; while the plots are comedic and the characters
exaggerated, there is still a deeper level. Every word calculated for maximum effect, every shot
carefully planned, and while the temptation to break the fourth wall is never done – that won’t
happen until the very end of the following series – the deconstructive post-modernism has the
directors SHOWING the audience it’s all fake – revealing Mrs Peel’s flat is a set in “Epic”, quipping
that “someone else always gets there first” in “Something Nasty in the Nursery”.

Clemens has upended his own show and subverted the genre as never before. Not only are they
parodying the spy genre, they are now parodying themselves. It is a self-referential Ouroburos,
devourin g itself as it encircles the world.

“The Avengers” in pop culture is “The Avengers” in colour and “The Avengers” with Diana Rigg and
Patrick Macnee. No matter how many episodes there are without this combination (in fact, these are
only one sixth of the whole), it is this series that defines the show. Look anywhere – shallow musing
on online blogs, television history websites, pub trivia nights, internationally broadcast quiz shows,
probably even Stephen Fry. They all imagine Mrs Emma Peel in a blue and purple catsuit when they
think of “The Avengers”. I do too, even though I know better, and I hope you will also after reading
this book.