The Avengers
4.18: The Girl From Auntie
I’ve mentioned that a few of these episodes have changed in
my appreciation since I last watched the series, and The Girl from Auntie constitutes a very pronounced uptick. Indeed,
I don’t know how I failed to rate highly the estimable Liz Fraser filling in
for Diana Rigg – mostly absent, on holiday –
for the proceedings (taking a not dissimilar amateur
impostor-cum-sidekick role to Fenella Fielding in the earlier The Charmers). I could watch Fraser all
day, and it’s only a shame this was her single appearance in the show.
Steed: Six bodies in an hour and twenty minutes.
What do you call that?
Georgie Price-Jones:
A good first act?
This is a very jokey, free-wheeling outing from The Man from U.N.C.L.E.-alluding title
down, fizzing from scene to scene and eccentric encounter to eccentric
encounter. Emma, kidnapped in the first scene, looks like she has emerged from
a very ‘60s all-nighter, post-wasted (she’s in a “nude” Eve outfit, fresh from
a fancy-dress party). Also seen is a bikini babe and a man with a pig head.
Steed has been away for a few days, loading his cab with various
souvenir items that amuse Ray Martine’s recurrent driver (at various points the
latter dons a diving mask and boxing gloves, and is repeatedly called upon to
elicit various double takes at Steed’s backseat antics). He finds Liz’s Georgie
Price-Jones (even the name is perfect) ensconced in Emma’s flat, paid to pose
as Mrs Peel but oblivious to any salient facts about her (she readily concurs
when it is suggested that Steed’s “A
small fat man with a grey moustache”), before departing and very amusingly
calling her from a callbox as an uber-posh Steed (“It’s ol’ lover boy himself, back from Karachi. Be with you in a couple
of jiffs”).
But they quickly join forces and embark on the hunt for Emma,
leading to a trail of knitting needle-perforated bodies as an old lady (Mary
Merrall, later revealed, in a very Mission:
Impossible pre-empting move, to be a man in a mask) attempts to seal off
any loose ends. The victims include plentiful jokey and in-jokey names, the
Bates and Marshall Advertising Agency (referencing story editor Richard Bates
and episode’s writer Roger Marshall), Barrett, Barrett and Wimpole solicitors
(after the play), and theatrical costumier the Four Jacques Brothers (John,
Paul, George and Fred, who pile out of a cupboard, dead).
Aunt Hetty: I would like to do you in poodle wool, with a
V-neck double rib bottom and brand-named sleeves. Would you mind?
As far as wacky characters blessed with memorable dialogue
are concerned, there’s Aunt Hetty (the estimable Sylvia Coleridge, Amelia Ducat
in The Seeds of Doom), who attends The
Arkwright Knitting Circle, Arkwright being one Bernard Cribbins (his first of two
fine turns on the show, although I think the second edges it), given to
encouraging phrases such as “Knit along,
and away we go!” and “Listen, the
sheer, serene sound of clicking needles”. And less encouraging ones when
Georgie joins the circle (“Oh dear, we
are rusty, aren’t we?”)
Steed: The unobtainable obtained?
Gregorio Auntie: Yes, sounds an extravagant claim, doesn’t
it? But we are a unique organisation. We actually can get you anything.
Anything at all, and sometimes the price is very high.
The villain of the piece is more grounded, however, even if
his schemes are not. Gregorio Auntie (the always-enjoyable Alfred Burke of The Mauritius Penny and series Public Eye), of Art Incorporated, has
the Mona Lisa on his books (Steed, having broken in, and posing as Wayne
Pennyfeather ffitch (with two small fs), proposes that Auntie is “less likely to shoot me standing in front of
a Da Vinci”, although it eventually ends up smashed over Auntie’s head). He
even plans to sell the Eiffel Tower to a Texas Millionaire (acquiring it is easy,
“the main problem is smuggling it out of
Paris”). He is, naturally, impressed by ffitch (“Increasing rarity, English gentlemen”).
Steed: By the way, where are you holding her?
Gregorio Auntie: I’m very happy to have made your acquaintance, Mr ffitch. Good night.
Gregorio Auntie: I’m very happy to have made your acquaintance, Mr ffitch. Good night.
Of course, he’s the one who had Mrs Peel snatched, intent on
selling her to Russian agent Ivanoff (David Bauer), whom Steed needs to get out
of the way in order to open an auction on his prize. The auction is full of
amusing lines, including a Russian (Maurice Browning) purchasing the Mona Lisa,
catching himself on professing to its majesty (“Quite splendid, isn’t it?... A splendid example of filthy decadent
western art. One million, six”) and Auntie promising to have it despatched
forthwith (“I shall have it delivered to
your hotel, sir… Oh, I beg your pardon, your submarine”).
Gregorio Auntie: Two hundred thousand pounds, for this
outstanding example of British pulchritude and learning.
Mrs Peel, meanwhile, a bird in a gilded cage, has Steed
taking the piss (“She looks a bit broody.
Can’t you have her move about a bit? That’s better. I can see what I’m buying”).
Macnee is on top form throughout, and on the receiving end of a broken vase,
(from Hetty and Arkwright), which he then turns into a joke when a repeat is
called for (Steed and the old lady have a sack over their heads, Georgie hits
the right one but Steed pretends it got him too). He borrows a Goya from the National
Gallery (“Only to true patrons”), and
when the old lady calls round collecting for the dog’s home, replies “Now, what will it be? Bones or cash?” before
offering the latter (“Nonsense, someone’s
got to pay for the postman’s trousers”).
Steed: Charming lady. I wonder if she’s going our
way?
But it’s Fraser who steals the show, from overpowering a
granny as she reads instructions in a Self-Defence book to showing a twinge of
jealousy over Emma. Asking what’s so special about her, Steed replies “Her vital statistics” before adding, as
Georgie, who has no shortage of them, shuffles uncomfortably, “The IQ variety”. Then he gags her (“CHARMING”). The laugh-off is fun too,
with Emma returning a smidgeon of jealousy as Georgie passes them in Steed’s
Bentley, he and Mrs Peel in a bubble car.
Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.