
While many Aussie serials have serious cult followings, only one has been elevated to iconic status. Prisoner, or as it is known outside Australia, Prisoner: Cell Block H has just celebrated its 30th anniversary. Not only does its appeal appear to be timeless, but it is also unique for its predominantly female cast, several spin-off stage productions and its brief but nevertheless astounding success in America where it out-rated the legendary Johnny Carson.
Prisoner premiered on February 27, 1979 and critical reaction was mostly favourable. TV Times saw it “destined for success” but couldn’t help taking a few potshots. “Prisoner could be described by the uncharitable as The Young Convicts or The Restless Lags, but in truth it is a slickly made tear-jerker. Old master Reg Watson can’t have had as much fun since he helped create Crossroads. If you think there is some similarity between Prisoner and Googie Withers’s British-made series Within These Walls, forget it. In many ways, it has more affinity to Porridge.”
While the show might have descended into Ronnie Barker sitcom territory in later episodes, its two-hour opener was a scorcher. It commenced with the arrival of two new inmates at Wentworth, Karen Travers (Peta Toppano) and Lynn Warner (Kerry Armstrong). Karen had killed her abusive husband, while country girl Lynn was a true innocent, framed for the kidnapping of a baby (which had actually been buried alive by its demented mother). Lynn was soon incurring the harsh wrath of Bea Smith, who burnt her arm in the steam press, while Karen was set upon by Franky, in a new variation of love at first sight.
Wentworth’s staff was represented by immaculately coiffured Governor Erica Davidson (Patsy King), caring warder Meg Morris (Elspeth Ballantyne), who had been born in a prison, and her psychologist husband Bill Jackson (Don Barker). Bill was killed by Chrissie Latham (Amanda Muggleton) during the series’ first riot, thereby setting widow Meg up for a never-ending parade of ill-matched suitors who would either dump, wed or rape her during the series’ seven-year run.
And then there was Vera (Fiona Spence). Miss Bennett was nicknamed ‘Vinegar Tits’ by the women and the expression caught on quickly. After just a few months on air, reports filtered back that schoolkids had started using the name to refer to their least favourite teachers. Like Number 96 before it, children had unwittingly become regular viewers of another series they weren’t supposed to be watching and it was hardly surprising that schoolyards, which operated on the same power dynamics as a prison, ended up with students calling their teachers the same names they saw the TV prisoners calling their warders.
Subsequently, the show would be watered down, and despite research showing that most female prisoners were incarcerated for drug offences, the impressionable underage audience meant that Prisoner would always carry an anti-drugs message. Bea Smith had already been set up as a leader who would not tolerate illicit substances, her own daughter having died from a heroin overdose while Bea was locked up.
The early episodes also featured two underdeveloped characters who would soon dominate the show. Doreen Anderson (Collette Mann) was first seen as a thumb-sucking, teddy bear-hugging lesbian lover of Franky Doyle, while Lizzie (Sheila Florence) was a cranky, chain-smoking kleptomaniac, incarcerated for life after poisoning a group of shearers who had complained about her cooking. As the series developed, Doreen, Lizzie and Bea became the show’s most beloved characters, and behind the scenes, were nicknamed ‘The Three Musketeers’.
As Prisoner became a popular success at home, Grundy’s took the unprecedented step of deciding to try to sell the show internationally. After being shopped around at a Las Vegas show convention in April 1979, Los Angeles independent station KTLA-5 bought the 26 episodes. With a title change to prevent confusion with British cult classic The Prisoner (which starred Patrick McGoohan), Prisoner: Cell Block H premiered in America in August 1979. US critics howled about its sleazy plots and cheap production values, but Californians were fascinated and began to switch on in increasing numbers. Soon it was the second highest-rating show in its timeslot (Wednesdays, 8pm), beaten only by Charlie’s Angels. A cult had been born.
Not only that, but Americans were actually prepared to listen to the show with the original Aussie accent. Around this time, Mad Max had only been released into cinemas after every actor had been dubbed with American voices, including Mel Gibson. The women of Prisoner, however, got to speak in their native twang.
When the series first began, American lesbians picketed the television station, concerned that Franky was going to be yet another negative portrayal of a gay woman. They soon changed their mind as each new episode unfolded and Franky’s softer side emerged. By the time the character died on-screen, a group of real-life bikies drove to KTLA to lay a wreath at the station door for their favourite character. By 1980, the show was screening in 35 American cities including Chicago, San Diego and Albuquerque, but not without its detractors. TV Guide slammed the independent stations that screened it in early-evening timeslots (Minneapolis at 6.30pm, Philadelphia 5pm), claiming it wasn’t suitable for family viewing, and, given America’s prudish network standards at this time, the show must have been a shock for unsuspecting viewers. In New York, Prisoner: Cell Block H was served as a late-night treat but nobody dreamed it would best Johnny Carson’s long running Tonight Show. At the height of its popularity, even Saturday Night Live did a send-up, and several years later it was revealed Sammy Davis Jr was a major fan. When he visited Australia and requested a tour of the set, he begged producers to write him in for a cameo. Amazingly, conflicting schedules prevented this from happening.
America’s love affair with Prisoner: Cell Block H didn’t last and the show gradually disappeared from screens there. New York cancelled their order after 274 episodes, although Philadelphia kept the habit until 1984. In 1991, however, Grundy’s convinced the Yanks they could make their own version, Dangerous Women. The syndicated series was basically a reworking of early Prisoner scripts. Bea Smith was reincarnated as Rita and Karen Travers was now known as Maria Trent. The end result, a very poor imitation of the original, was not a success.
In 1987, just as the last episode was going to air in Australia, England bought the show and began screening it around the country in varying late night slots. Just as in America, the series exceeded projected audience figures everywhere it was screened, and the show soon had an audience so huge it went beyond cult. By 1990 it was so popular that four original cast members (Val Lehman, Sheila Florence, Amanda Muggleton and Carol Burns) were shipped over to appear on English talk shows and tour the country in a unique chat show style theatre event called ‘The Great Escape’. Everywhere they appeared, they caused a near riot with hordes of screaming fans. The city of Derby even hosted a civic reception for Bea, Lizzie, Chrissie and Franky.
Next came a stage version of the play, written by Reg Watson, with Patsy King back as Erica the governor and Elspeth Ballantyne as Meg. Glenda Linscott, yet to be seen in most parts of the country as Rita, played a new character called Angela (a ‘Chrissie Latham-type’) while UK actresses Joanna Monro and Brenda Longman played Franky Doyle and Bea respectively. It premiered at the Wimbledon Theatre on 21 September 1989,
Depending on the location, the audience would boo and hiss panto-style, or sit in solemn silence taking it all very seriously. So seriously in fact, the play was revived in 1990 with Fiona Spence (Vera), Jane Clifton (Margo) and Jacqui Gordon (Suzie).
The Prisoner phenomenon then spawned its most unusual spin-off. On 29 October 1995, Prisoner Cell Block H: The Musical opened at the Queen’s Theatre in London, later travelling throughout the UK on a national tour. Emphasising the camp values of the show, this latest version featured Maggie Kirkpatrick as Joan Ferguson and, playing herself, English drag comedian Lily Savage (Paul O’Grady), who is thrown into Wentworth for a crime she didn’t commit. Played strictly for laughs, this version had intentional overacting and sets that really did wobble (even though it was an urban myth that Prisoner’s rock sold concrete and brick prison cells shook on-camera).
Prisoner Cell Block H: The Musical was written by Peter Pinne and Don Battye. Australian fans assumed the smash hit would make its way down under, but both writers agreed that the pantomime aspects of the show were unique to an English audience. There was also concern as to who could play the lead in a down under version. “We altered the concept to accommodate Lily Savage,” says Peter Pinne, “but there was nobody in Australia that could have put bums on the seats the way that Lily Savage did.”
To this day, there are still Prisoner fan clubs all over the world and over 50 websites dedicated to the show. It’s all done with good humour too as fans continue to debate over who had the most laughable hairstyle, which was the most poorly-choreographed fight scene and what was the most ridiculous storyline (the overweight lesbian Judy Bryant moonlighting as a prostitute perhaps?).
Television shows about prisons continue to be fascinating viewing, particularly for Prisoner fans looking for copycats. Is the psycho bitch warden of America’s Oz based on The Freak? And was the commissioning of Bad Girls an English attempt to replicate Prisoner’s success? In all, the Aussie soap has screened in over 40 countries including Barbados, Ecuador, Hong Kong, Poland, South Africa and Brazil, and one of its most recent signings was to a new gay Canadian TV network, Pride, where it is known as Caged Women.
(This is an edited Extract from the book SUPER AUSSIE SOAPS by Andrew Mercado)Here now are two Australian advertisements for PRISONER...

Labels: nostalgia, prisoner, super aussie soaps