The Secret Service – 7. The Deadly Whisper

As I mentioned, there’s no script for me to study and compare to the finished episode this week, but I don’t exactly need one to tell me that the guys with binoculars and wearing leather and trenchcoats (not leather trenchcoats though) are the baddies. The telephone box they’re observing was filmed outside the gates of East Burnham Park, Allerds Road in Burnham, while the white car is a Volkswagen Karmann Ghia. Last week kept the live-action filming to an absolute minimum while this week’s pre-titles sequence goes in pretty hard with it and, in my opinion, it works. The day-for-night shooting is fairly okay, and I’m never going to be fine with how the lighting on the puppet stages fails to match with the location material so I’m just going to have to say that it’s okay as well.

Mark Slater meets up for a nice chat with his totally not-evil-looking buddy, Kroner. It’s a Mysteron reunion party between Captain Indigo and Captain Black. Frankly, Black’s rather distinctive face makes him quite unsuitable for his various guest roles in Joe 90 and The Secret Service, but I guess if ya look like a baddie you’re gonna get cast as a baddie.

The pair are good enough to explain what the plot is going to be all about this week. They want to blow up a prototype aircraft without using a bullet or anything that might be detectable as sabotage. It’s a puzzler I’ll give them that. Have you tried feeding the passengers a particularly farty baked bean supper?

Inside the phone box is someone who isn’t afraid of showing their live-action human face to the camera. Presumably it’s a female member of the Century 21 team. Yes – a woman in The Secret Service – that’s the third one in seven weeks!

Meet Anne. She’s a hip and trendy young person. Again, something of a rarity in The Secret Service.

This is her father. He’s more of a grumpy old posh bloke… the type of character we see quite a lot in The Secret Service. He’s got a Mysteron gun painted black sitting on his desk. Interestingly, the team decided that instead of drawing upon their existing cast of revamp puppets that look like older gentlemen, they adapted the often-seen Captain Brown revamp by rewigging him and adding a tash and a few frown lines to make him look older. They obviously liked using that puppet a heck of a lot. He seemed to get all the best roles.

Anyway, we learn that Anne is in a phone box just outside London… which really helps to narrow down her whereabouts. But she’s on her way home and apparently her driving leaves a lot to be desired. So far I’m only finding all this small talk mildly grating.

While Anne hangs up, Professor Soames has a little chat with the gun. That’s purely for our benefit of course. He wonders whether gunny will work. I assume we’ll find that out in a moment. Of course, I don’t have a ruddy script to confirm it but it’s possible that the scene was trimmed or rearranged and might have originally provided a little more context for what the fella is even talking about.

Cut back to live-action Anne as she pops into her car. Someone with a better eye for faces than me might be able to tell you exactly who is playing her. My money’s on Dame Judi Dench.

Oh… apparently that’s it. That was the pre-titles scene. Tense music is trying to tell us that all of that business was terribly significant and exciting but I’m not quite sure I’m getting that…

No wait, that isn’t it. Yes, after the opening titles, the scene picks right back up from where it left off. While Anne is driving through the ever-so-familiar lanes of Burnham, she finds a man sunbathing in the middle of the road. I say sunbathing despite the day-for-night shooting looking fairly passable.

Captain Black… I mean Kroner… is keeping an eye on the situation. I’m sorry but they at least needed to change his hair or something. He’s been repainted but it’s not enough.

You can tell the puppet team were trying ever so hard to match the location footage because even Slater’s left leg is twisted in the same position as the live-action counterpart. Unfortunately, the lighting doesn’t match and for some reason the sprinkling of early-autumn leaves on the road have been replaced with tons of sawdust.

Using all of her expertise as someone who doesn’t practice medicine at all, Anne studies the man in the road quietly and without making any attempt to revive him. Clearly, he’s a lost cause in her eyes because the first thing I would do in her situation is start by saying “hello” or something, just to check it isn’t sleepy Joe taking a nap whilst staggering home from the pub. 

Then, a man with a gun appears out of nowhere and it becomes clear that something fishy is going on. Again, Anne’s response is rather more measured than I would have expected. Instead of shouting for help, or at the very least standing up, Anne just wants to know what’s happening. The dialogue sounds more like she’s being thrown a surprise birthday party than a surprise kidnapping.

Slater sits up, and David Healy positively drools over all the deliciously nasty dialogue he starts to deliver. Again, he’s very direct for the audience’s benefit, and asks Miss Soames for help destroying an aeroplane. That was clearly the dramatic line that the episode was supposed to use as a hook before cutting to the opening titles but, for whatever reason, it got moved around in the edit… either that or I’m wrong… but that just couldn’t be the case, could it?

The next morning, it’s a party over at Casa del Unwin. Mrs Appleby is flower arranging and Father Unwin is slogging away at his desk. I’m sure Matthew is snorting something out of a friend’s belly button somewhere though.

After all the thrills and spills of Errand of Mercy, the special effects unit have some zest back in them and contribute some nice shots of a noisy aircraft overflying the Vicarage. It terrifies Mrs Appleby and even smashes a vase. Fortunately, it wasn’t a vase anybody particularly liked. Apparently the testing of the aircraft in the local airspace was widely reported with reasonable advice to residents that some disruption might be caused. What a thoughtful prototype aircraft testing establishment.

But Mrs Appleby has a plan to put a stop to it. Are you ready? Hold on to your hats because this is going to blow them clean off. She wants Father Unwin… to mention it in his sermon. Yes, Mrs Appleby believes that the power the vicar wields from the pulpit is absolute, and she desperately wants him to abuse it. I mean, come on. I know she lives a sheltered life but does she truly reckon that Unwin should solve the problem by standing up and saying, “oh, before our next hymn, could I ask that the owner of the flippin’ loud aeroplane kindly shove off before someone’s legs get broken in an unfortunate accident?”

Luckily, Unwin doesn’t have work on his mind at all because, let’s be honest, he’s only half-arsing the whole being a priest thing. No, instead he’s going through his notes regarding entries for this year’s flower show. FEEL THE RUSH!

Meanwhile, check out this great big house that one man and his daughter live in. As with so many Anderson children, Anne’s mother isn’t mentioned. Probably dead – they usually are. Anyway, the filming location for the enormous home of the Soames family was West Sheepcote, Wooburn Common Road, Wooburn Green. If you’ve got a million and a half pounds burning a hole in your pocket, you could be the proud owner of this glorious location from The Secret Service complete with green slime on the roof.

In his laboratory, Professor Soames has got some of his toys out to play with. The device which, I can’t state more clearly, is just a Mysteron gun painted black, is mounted in front of three sheets of glass. As the gun lights up and whistles at us, a hole gets punctured cleanly through two of the three panes. It happens so quickly and cleanly that I can only assume charges were positioned on the back of the glass by the effects team in pre-cut areas.

Soames records a log which helpfully lets us know that it’s May 24th at 10:30 am… which raises the question as to where on earth does he think his daughter has ended up? A considerable amount of time has passed since she telephoned during the night and said she was coming home. The sun has probably been up for hours and the phone box she was using was only just outside London. He definitely lives in a rural area of Southern England because he’s a member of Father Unwin’s flock so Anne should definitely be home by now and her dad doesn’t seem the least bit bothered about it and just goes about his work quite happily!

Ah well, at least May 24th is a reasonably accurate date to hold a rose show…

Before we have too much time to question any of this, Mark Slater and his colleague Eastman arrive to inform the Professor that they’ll kill Anne unless he works on the Mk.II version of the sonic rifle for the express purpose of blowing up that aircraft. Slater is delightfully persuasive. Presumably Anne let them borrow her keys to get into the house. Either that or Soames is in the habit of leaving his door wide open during dangerous experiments.

According to the sign which Matthew is so elegantly hammering together, the Annual Rose Show is being held on June 21… a month away from the May 24 date given in the previous scene. Now I know bog all about competitive horticulture, but if Matthew and Unwin are expecting entrants to cut their roses four weeks before the show, the only thing they’ll be displaying is a collection of the finest dead flowers in Buckinghamshire. I guess that’s why Matthew is only a pretend gardener.

Soames is late with his entry, a result of his trademark forgetfulness, and our heroes are fed up with it. Father Unwin is going to jolly well phone him up. FEEL THE RUSH!

Soames is ordered to answer the call under the pretence that everything is totally fine and there definitely hasn’t been a kidnapping. He offers his apologies for the late delivery of the flowers – four weeks before the show – and promises the dahlias will be ready tomorrow. Slater is impressed with the display of normality. He hasn’t thought through the logistics of getting said dahlias to the vicar by tomorrow, but that’s a bit below Slater’s paygrade to be honest.

But Unwin and Matthew are stirred up into an absolute frenzy. Matthew is committed to his country gardener persona despite the fact nobody can overhear them. Soames strictly grows ROSES and wouldn’t go near a lousy stinking DAHLIA if his life depended on it… not to mention dahlias tend not to bloom until late summer or early autumn… and also the sign clearly says this is the annual ROSE show so those good for nothing DAHLIAS should sling their ruddy hooks because they have no place in the festivities. FEEL. THE. RUSH.

Seriously though, as twee and charming as all this drama revolving around the village flower show is, I do think it plays to the strengths of The Secret Service. It’s exactly the sort of intrigue a stereotypical country vicar and his gardener would get involved with, and it contrasts strongly and brilliantly with the espionage and high-tech sabotage plot that sits more comfortably as traditional Supermarionation fare. For the past few weeks, I think the scripts have struggled to find the right balance between the quaint aspects and the harder thriller aspects of the series, usually skewing quite forcefully in one direction or the other. But this week the potential is there for a good mix, provided all goes well.

Very subtly, Unwin’s gaze shifts to the ultra-modern experimental aircraft that’s been overflying the area in recent days and very, very neatly the two story strands are knitted together for the viewer. It’s also quite a nice effects shot showing the plane from a ground perspective.

Oh come on, if you’re not going to put any effort in to stop the character from creeping around at windows like Captain Black, I’m not going to try and buy into that puppet being any other character.

So I guess this upstairs room of the house has a convenient view of the airbase where the experimental aircraft is being put through its paces. Said upstairs bedroom consists of a pristine bookcase, an empty picture frame, some withered old golf clubs in the corner, an upturned chair, and a dusty mirror atop a worn out, collapsed bed. I don’t think much of the Soames family’s taste in decor.

The aircraft design treads that fine line between futuristic but not too futuristic. Since it’s a prototype, Mike Trim was able to design the plane to look a bit out there whilst maintaining the late 60s feel of something like Concorde. It also happens to be filmed quite nicely.

Later that evening, Unwin is looking terribly laid back during a briefing by the Bishop, accompanied by a non-speaking Agent Blake. The Bishop confirms that Soames is one of Father Unwin’s parishioners and also drops the bombshell that the Professor is doing secret work for either BISHOP specifically, or the government in general. He’s failed to file a report and Unwin’s brain goes into overdrive when he pairs this up with the earlier incident with the dahlias. 

It does make me wonder exactly why Soames made the mix up between roses and dahlias in the first place. Either he was stressed about the kidnapping at the time and made a genuine error, or he was deliberately trying to attract attention to himself without alerting Slater. Assuming it was the latter, he sure did have a lot of faith in Father Unwin’s nosiness. That is also assuming that he wasn’t aware of Father Unwin’s true identity as an agent of BISHOP.

And so, the next morning, Gabriel arrives at Soames’ house with Unwin at the wheel and that familiar Matthew-filled suitcase by his side. The gang. The squad. The posse. It’s another outing for live-action Stanley Unwin as he demonstrates the process of getting out of the car and ringing the bell. I bet the actor couldn’t believe he was getting paid a fair wage for this nonsense.

There’s a reasonable level of concern in the upstairs room which I actually find very competent and sensible. Sometimes in other episodes the baddies immediately dismiss Unwin as a threat just because he’s a priest and it always feels unnecessarily reckless. Also, there’s a flippin moose’s head on the wall of this old bedroom. But there’s also a piano which I believe is the same prop which dates all the way back to Four Feather Falls, made frequent appearances in X20’s front room during Stingray, and is still around to this day.

Downstairs, Eastman is doing the worst acting job I’ve ever witnessed as he pretends to be Professor Soames’ nephew and repeatedly calls him “uncle” in the tone of a serial killer.

Unwin has arrived under the flimsy pretext of needing Soames’ signature on the entry form for the dahlia competition. At this point, I don’t know whether this is a rose show, a general flower show, or just Unwin collecting any old weeds to display in his back garden. The vicar is keen to point out that he could have had a few extra days to register for the rose part of the exhibition, just so he can have a good rummage around in Soames’ intense levels of awkwardness which is beautifully played. I’m just a bit confused as to why the registration paperwork for different parts of the flower show is due on different days. It sounds like an organisational nightmare. As I said, dahlias bloom later than roses, so why would the dahlia entry forms be due a few days BEFORE the rose entry forms? I’m not saying the plot entirely falls apart because of all this, but it just proves that Father Unwin can’t be trusted with the simplest of pastoral duties.

Meanwhile, Matthew gets casually left on the floor. A classic move by Unwin – “The Unwin Drop And Run,” they call it. He does the same thing with coffins during funeral services.

So with Matthew safely stashed inside the house, the puppet villains watch as the flesh and blood Stanley Unwin leaves the house doing his “silly old priest” acting before climbing into Gabriel. It has to be mentioned that quite a lot of this script is following the beats of the earlier episodes, The Feathered Spies and To Catch A Spy. I guess Unwin just has a tried and tested way of planting Matthew in sensitive locations so he’s going to stick to it.

Matthew doesn’t have to wait long before Eastman starts being horrible to his “uncle” again and it becomes clear that all is not well. We head into the commercial break without a particularly exciting twist or revelation to keep us hooked in for the second part of the episode. Everything that Matthew’s just learned about Anne being held hostage and Soames working on the rifle, we already knew about. It’s worth noting that the commercial break comes in slightly earlier in the episode’s running time than it usually would. It’s only a minute or so out of place, but it does possibly point to some scenes being cut or shifted around, in the same way that the pre-titles scene also chose to cut to the opening credits at an odd moment.

After the break, Father Unwin is parked at yet another one of his favourite secluded spots in the middle of Burnham Beeches where he definitely doesn’t get up to no good every other Thursday night.

Matthew reports to his dog-collared colleague and I’m afraid it’s not good news…

Yes, it’s that ghastly, awful, terrible, revolting Matthew gnome again. Last seen haunting Sir Humphrey’s plant pots in To Catch A Spy, this one-ninth scale doll is used to show the miniaturised Matthew on puppet sets… even though the whole premise of the series revolves around the one-third scale puppet interacting with live-action sets. What’s even worse, this mini-mini-Matthew is attached to a wire so that it lightly jiggles about whilst talking. Someone, please, take the accursed thing outside and tear its stupid Action Man head off.

Matthew brings Father Unwin up to speed on everything we already know – the Soames family are being held against their will while the Professor is working on his rifle. Seriously, I think we’ve had the plot explained to us enough times now, thanks Matthew.

There’s something about Anne’s voice when she says the word “Dad” that makes my skin turn inside out of its own accord. Nevertheless, we’ve now had the reunion so it’s time for the demonstration… except it isn’t because the Professor needs a few hours to modify his rifle… but then it’s time for the demonstration… y’know the one Matthew just talked about… and the one Eastman talked about before the commercial break. Seriously, if you missed it, there’s gonna be a demonstration. Don’t miss it. The demonstration, I mean.

For reasons that will become clear later, the set for Professor Soames’ back garden is filmed on the special effects stage inside the studio, rather than in a real back garden as per The Feathered Spies. It’s quite a lovely miniature. The puppet set looks suspiciously like Father Unwin’s back garden at the Vicarage.

Meanwhile, Matthew is bothering a dog… again. Yeah I guess everyone at Century 21 enjoyed having a dog on set so much last time they brought another one in. This time, however, its appearances are kept strictly on a stage inside the studio, meaning that Matthew doesn’t have to be filmed outdoors. Quite how Matthew managed to get past Rex and access the dog house in the first place, I don’t know.

While Slater briefs the Professor and reminds us all over again that they plan to use the sonic rifle to blow up the experimental aircraft without a trace of sabotage, Matthew and Rex reach a happy compromise. Honestly, I don’t particularly mind this shot of Matthew – a puppet – interacting with a real dog. It’s cute and quirky. Real animals have been used in Supermarionation productions previously, from mice posing as rats, crocodiles posing as alligators, and snakes posing as, well, snakes. Having a real dog stand alongside a puppet is considerably less weird than the alternative… creating a puppet of a giant dog. Neither approach is convincing, but the real dog is much less likely to give me nightmares.

We’re spared yet more exposition as Matthew shares the news with Unwin off-screen. He’s determined to do something about it… which is good of him seeing as he’s supposed to be a secret agent and all.

Gabriel turns around and toddles off while dramatic music plays. I believe no car should attempt a three-point turn without a musical motif to suggest intrigue.

Finally, we get to this long-awaited demonstration of the sonic rifle’s newfound capabilities. Matthew gets his face licked repeatedly which is exactly how my dogs would react to a tiny human sharing their personal space. The lovely stack of rocks at the bottom of the garden explodes spectacularly, which seems like quite a dangerous thing to do. What if someone were enjoying a picnic on the other side of that garden wall? The head injuries would be unthinkable. Nevertheless, with the demonstration considered a success, it’s time for the plot to move on at last…

Ever so slightly darker footage of Gabriel arriving at the house suggests it’s now later in the day. Stanley Unwin has a tug while standing on the doorstep.

Sure enough, as soon as Unwin gets involved things turn nasty. The dirty rotten scam about the dahlias is uncovered because the vicar claims to have come to collect them, but there aren’t any. I can’t help but laugh at all these crooks having to discuss the contents of the Professor’s flower beds. Eastman is intimately familiar with the differences between roses and dahlias, and Slater is quick to agree with him. Apparently horticulture is at the top of the syllabus at espionage school. So, with that, Professor Soames is taken upstairs and the charming Mark Slater is planning to talk to Father Unwin himself. Seriously, if he weren’t such a wrong’un, he’d be a very nice fellow.

Fortunately, Matthew hears everything from the case and warns Unwin to be careful. I’m sure he’ll be as careful as he is with the babies during Christenings… not very. Every kid in the parish is cross-eyed thanks to Father Unwin.

It’s time for Slater vs. Unwin as they both try to be terribly polite to each other. It’s also time for the Unwinese segment of the programme in order to keep the villain distracted while Matthew pushes his case across the room. The gimmick is starting to wear off I must admit, but at least the writers are finding vaguely different ways of working Unwinese into the stories each week.

Alas, Slater’s patience has run out and it’s time to threaten his opponent with violence when it becomes clear that the vicar is fully aware of the Professor and his daughter being held as prisoners in their own home. At last, the plot can turn towards something that isn’t about bloomin’ flowers.

Unwin is taken upstairs by force with his suitcase now at his side again… but Matthew isn’t in it… not actually sure whether that was intentional or not.

The European Civil Aviation Flight Research Establishment. ECAFRE for short. Funny how that acronym never took off in the same way as FAB or SIG.

These nighttime shots of the experimental aircraft (only ever refered to on screen as “010”) look absolutely gorgeous. The navigation lights are a great detail and really go a long way to sell it. Also, we’re finally filming the models at exciting close-up angles so they actually look like big, imposing aircraft instead of toys. You might recognise the airfield control tower from last week’s episode, Errand of Mercy.

The interior of the control room was also seen in Errand of Mercy, and The Feathered Spies before that. I guess olive green was just the colour of choice for airbase architects of the late 60s. Captain Ochre takes on yet another guest role in the series as the airfield controller. Does that puppet have some dirt on the Andersons or something? He seems to get cast in their shows a heck of a lot…

The helmets and masks on the pilots of 010 are also modified from those seen in Errand of Mercy. It’s almost as if the two episodes were shot back-to-back in the series’ production order…

The aircraft takes off and it really is very lovely. I have no complaints about the special effects this week – they have been superb so far.

Back at the house, Father Unwin and the Soameses either have to endure looking at Captain Black for an extended period of time, or turning around and looking at that rotten moose head on the wall behind them. They opt for Captain Black but I don’t think any of them are happy about it.

Inexplicably, despite not being in the case when Father Unwin carried it upstairs, Matthew has found himself in the room with them. He’s also managed to sneak in, crawl up the bookcase which is the size of a skyscraper from his diminished perspective, and silently find some space behind the books without attracting Kroner’s attention. Sounds a bit far-fetched to me.

With some more casual Unwinese some books are skillfully directed towards their target. Slater and Eastman announce their departure, leaving Kroner to babysit the inmates rather than enjoy the thrill of blowing up a plane. Fortunately Matthew soon puts the creepy ex-Mysteron out of his misery with the swift delivery of a broken skull. Seriously, don’t try this at home kids, it would hurt bad.

Not wishing to baffle the Professor and Anne further, Unwin remains suitably cryptic about the incident and just encourages a quick escape from the room. Anything to get away from that stinking moose.

Rather than filming at a real set of live-action gates, the model department has been put in charge of constructing an enormous perimeter wall which looks like it was built for a prison yard rather than a nice house in the countryside. A cute little Land Rover emerges from the property. Eastman cradles the sonic rifle like a beer keg at a frat party while Slater drives. Hot on their tail is Gabriel, with Father Unwin at the wheel and Professor Soames in the passenger seat… smoking his pipe… yes, he’s so at ease with this whole situation that he’s kicking back and whipped his pipe out to enjoy a shag while the vicar does all the work. Unbelievable.

Meanwhile, 010 is just up in the air, doing its thing. Not quite sure why the pilots are wearing helmets and oxygen masks in what is clearly some kind of passenger plane but whatever, you guys do you.

The chase on the ground is quite thrilling as Slater and Eastman realise that the priest and the prof have escaped. “What happened to Kroner?” they wonder. I say that you get what you pay for when you hire former Mysteron agents.

From the back of the vehicle, Eastman uses the sonic rifle to blow the everlasting butt sauce out of Gabriel… but misses and hits a tree. The explosion is absolutely enormous. Like, ludicrously over the top, but utterly brilliant. 

The question is, could a so-called “sonic rifle” actually do that kind of damage? Yes, sonic weapons do exist which can damage eardrums and cause a person severe pain, disorientation, or just discomfort. Such devices are used for crowd control and general public deterrents. What about destroying objects though? Theoretically, any object subjected to a vibration which matches the frequency of its own natural frequency, can resonate so forcefully that the object will be destroyed. Even if a machine powerful enough to create such sonic frequencies were possible, the rifle would have to be tuned absolutely perfectly with the natural frequency of the object, and then not come into contact with anything such as boring stuff like air. So basically, yes the theory is possible, but a rifle hanging out the back of a truck in an uncontrolled environment is not the way to do it.

I hope I’m explaining all this right – I spent half of my GCSE Physics exam with my head in my hands… true story.

I don’t know what’s more impressive here – a lightbulb making a high-pitched noise managing to take down a bridge, or Gabriel having brakes good enough to stop before driving straight into the fireball.

With their route cut off, Unwin and Soames have to come up with a Plan B before the sonic rifle is used to take out the aircraft. I really like this turn of events. We get to see the ridiculous rifle at work making things go bang, but our heroes survive and have to come up with something much, much cleverer to do instead of just chasing after them. It’s unfortunate that Matthew got left behind instead of joining in on the action. I guess this was another push by the writer, once again, to put Father Unwin at the heart of the situation, and this just happens to be an emergency where the stakes are so high that he’ll basically look like a hero no matter what he does to solve the crisis.

Soames is still clueless as to what exactly Father Unwin’s involvement is in all of this, but he’s only a teeny-tiny bit hesitant when the vicar suggests calling up the Bishop in order to gain control of the airfield. Professor Soames really doesn’t seem to give a monkey’s about most things, does he?

Often, The Secret Service is able to capture that very British capacity that people have to not care enough about their job and just hand it over to somebody else at the drop of a hat with no questions asked. It’s that weariness we all have in the world of work when a boss just says “jump” and you respond, “as long as I hit the ground fast enough…”

Gabriel arrives at the airfield while Slater and Eastman have the rifle ready to strike the landing aircraft. All these nighttime shots look excellent. The situation itself isn’t all that different from the climax to The Feathered Spies but the look and feel of it all is much more in the vein of classic Supermarionation adventures and the late night setting provides a great atmosphere.

Father Unwin is soon in command and our friend Captain Ochre could not be more thrilled to just relinquish control and do what he’s told. He’s already made his retirement plans.

Responding quickly to orders, the 010 pulls out of its landing just as the sonic rifle is getting powered up. That thing must be running out of batteries by this point, surely? I can’t emphasise the amount of effort it would take to create the right resonant frequency just to crack an egg from that distance, let alone a plane.

Unwin’s next order is to have another aircraft (the XK4 from The Feathered Spies) overfly the base at Mach 3. That’s three times the speed of sound, folks. Physicists, please tell me if I should be rolling around laughing at this next bit because I’ve honestly got no idea. I can’t express how awful I was with physics at school – if I can’t see exactly how something works with my own eyes, it might as well be magic to me, so I’ll believe anything.

That charismatic Mr Slater looks like he’s having a lovely day out. Unfortunately, its too dark for him to be able to distinguish one plane from another so everything that happens next is all quite unnecessary.

The noisy plane makes the noisy gun go bang and therefore horrifically injure Eastman. So I guess the lesson there is, next time someone starts shouting at you for doing something wrong, just shout at them back until their head explodes. Resonance. Science. FEEL THE RUSH!

Farewell noisy plane, you did something, I just wish I knew what it was.

Ummm… so Eastman’s dead and I guess that means we’re done. No idea what happened to Slater but he obviously didn’t feel too keen on helping out his esteemed colleague… assuming he wasn’t also killed…

Back at the Vicarage, Father Unwin is entertaining guests. Do they know he’s a secret agent now or not so much? I don’t think so, but the whole episode is getting wrapped up far too quickly for me to figure anything out.

Professor Soames attempts to explain to us all very slowly what the heck we just watched. “The tremendous build-up of sound waves from that Mach 3 aircraft bounced back the sonic vibrations to the source and destroyed the rifle.” Yeeaaah… if one loud noise meets another loud noise coming from the other direction, I’m fairly sure one doesn’t knock the other one out of the way like dodgems at a fairground. They just sort of combine to make an even louder noise.

Wisely, Professor Soames decides he’s going to stick to growing roses. Blimey, we’re back to horticulture are we? I’d forgotten all about that nonsense because I was so baffled by all the other nonsense.

Matthew gets to enjoy all manner of nonsenses from the comfort of his case. Aside from uncovering the initial intel, all Matthew contributed to the episode was shoving some books off a shelf. Definitely not the action hero he was at the beginning of the series. The episode ends with Unwin being all coy and smug about Matthew’s whereabouts which is fair enough because shrinking a man into a case is quite a neat party trick.

I think it’s fair to say that I enjoyed The Deadly Whisper more than I thought I would. The science is all absolute drivel but frankly that’s the case with many Supermarionation shows. At least it’s built upon something vaguely resembling reality so it isn’t completely wasting our time. I think Father Unwin’s role in the story is balanced nicely with all the action sequences. There’s just the right amount of quaint charm and big bombastic special effects to deliver something which is simultaneously exciting and true to The Secret Service’s core premise. 

The mix of live-action, puppets, and model shots is also balanced nicely. It’s very clear that the special effects team are getting more involved with the production of the series and putting more effort into their shots as a result. I can’t exactly say that there should be more live-action material because it never quite sat properly in the series, but without it the show does perhaps lack the very thing that helped to distinguish it from the likes of Joe 90. I wouldn’t mind seeing more experimentation with the combination of different techniques purely from an analytical point of view. However, in terms of producing good quality television, I think the Century 21 team is starting to get it now with The Secret Service… which is helpful considering we’re now over halfway through the run…