A product of the new pessimism of the early 1970s, and reflecting that
decade's key concerns - mass unemployment, spiralling inflation, chronic
industrial unrest - The Guardians (ITV, 1971) is now largely forgotten, perhaps
because relatively few viewers had the patience to see this lengthy, talky
drama to its conclusion. For all its faults, however, the series
is fascinating for its insights into the political ferment of its times, and for
what now appears an unusual and bold attempt to present a drama of moral
philosophy for a mainstream television audience.
Although it calls to mind Orwell's 1984, the series is far from the
straightforward warning it first appears. Carefully avoiding black and white
moralising, The Guardians creates a complex ethical universe in which oppressors
and resistance alike are plagued by conscience and self-doubt, and the use of
force is never without disturbing consequences, however apparently just the
cause.
The figurehead of this repressive Britain is Prime Minister Sir Timothy
Hobson (Cyril Luckham). Real power, however, is exercised by the
Guardians, the gestapo-style force presided over by the shadowy General and his
ruthless representative, Norman (Derek Smith). Hobson's dictatorship is a
paternalistic fascism, based on the premise that 'democracy is a form of group
suicide'. The calculation behind its mask of benevolence is exemplified by the
use of cannabis to keep prison inmates in a state of happy passivity, and by its
'humane' method of capital punishment, in which the condemned are unknowingly
sedated then executed by lethal injection, while a bogus
ritual - including an actor as hangman - is presented to satisfy public
bloodlust.
Opposing this apparatus is an array of competing factions, chief among them
the Communists and a non-ideological, deliberately fragmented structure whose
members adopt the name Quarmby. Unlikely revolutionaries - one stated objective
is to restore the monarchy - Quarmby's strategy is a classical terrorist one: to
drive the state to greater and greater repression, forcing it to reveal 'the
nature of the beast'. But its members must face the risk that by adopting
violence they become a mirror image of their enemy.
Ambitious in scope, if not in budget, The Guardians was marred by uneven
performances and a shortage of real action. It was, nevertheless, a serious,
thorough and highly intelligent examination of both totalitarianism and the ethics of
violent resistance to totalitarianism, which convincingly showed how an
apparently gentle man might almost unwittingly become a dictator.
Mark Duguid
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