Returning to London with The Saint

Saint or Stooge?  Templar or traveler?
Adventurer or Ad-libber?
Wise, or merely weary (and jet-lagged)?
You decide.

In The Saint episode “The Paper Chase,” Simon Templar walks across Westminster Bridge.  Against a dull, gray sky, Westminster Palace, also known as the Houses of Parliament, rises in the distance.  As he walks down the steps to the Victoria Embankment, we hear him intone: “London, Five a.m., Westminster.  The Embankment, a boulevard or a bedroom, depending on how Fate dealt its hand.  For those of us who are not asleep it is a time to love, pray, hate, argue, cheat, sometimes even kill.”  He walks past a man sleeping on a park bench, covered in newspapers, and pauses to stare out upon the Thames.  Already, boats ply the dark waters.  Nearby, two men argue.  Although he does not yet know it, he will soon become embroiled with those two men, when a member of British Intelligence begs him to travel to Germany to secure information one of them carries.

The Saint came before my time.  Growing up in America, I did not notice all the books written by Leslie Charteris in my library.  I did not watch reruns on the TV.  If the comic strips made their way to American newspapers, I did not notice.  When the movie version of “The Saint,” starring Val Kilmer, appeared in theaters in 1997, I knew nothing of the character’s rich fictional heritage.

Discovering this old TV series has been a joy.  Everyday, Family Network plays an episode.  Some were shot in Black and White, some in Color.  Much of the scenery grows familiar after awhile, as studio interiors and exteriors are redressed to match the current story.  Many of the same actors reappear, playing different characters.  Only the Saint remains unique, mysterious.  What is he?  Who is he?  Why do the authorities constantly suspect him of wrongdoing, yet rely on his assistance in bringing criminals to justice?  How does he manage to live such a lavish lifestyle, have so many friends, and drop anything on a moment’s notice for a person in need?  Played by Roger Moore, who would later take over the role of James Bond, Simon Templar seems a better man than the more famous secret agent.  Watching him as The Saint, I understand why I liked Roger Moore so well as Bond.  Perhaps some of the Saint rubbed off on him.  Roger Moore was certainly aware of how young people idolized Bond, and always fought to soften the rough edges of Ian Fleming's hero.  Unlike Timothy Dalton and Daniel Craig, his James Bond never gloated when vanquishing an enemy.  He never smiled while others died.

The British call these dolphins.
Don't ask me why.

“The Paper Chase” comes as something of a surprise.  Although it would return to some of those familiar sets, the episode offers us a few new production locations.  Simon Templar boards a train, and like James Bond, soon engages in a fight-to-the-death as he travels to Germany.  But my favorite moment of all is the beginning, when he steps off Westminster Bridge and onto the Victoria Embankment.  For I have been there too.  At the time, my thoughts might have been on Doctor Who and Monty Python, but I walked those same steps, passed those same light posts, and watched the boats traveling the same river.  When next I return to England, and visit London, I shall return to that place so immortalized by the TV shows I love.  I may not be dressed in a tuxedo, and I may not be drafted by British Intelligence for an important mission, but my visit there will still be rich with meaning. 

Perhaps this time I’ll even ride the London Eye, the famous ferris wheel erected to celebrate the Millennium.  That’s probably the only thing Simon Templar couldn’t have done back in 1960s London.  But only because it did not then exist.

Dragon Dave

Related Dragon Cache entries

Westminster Bridge in Color,and in Black and White

Monty Python on WestminsterBridge

Keeping an Eye on the RiverThames

Related Internet Links

A photo collection of architectural details around London

   

Monty Python on Westminster Bridge

In the sketch “Nationwide”, a self-described “rather wet” TV news program sends its reporter John Dull out to Westminster Bridge.  While all the other news shows are covering World War Three, the producers of this program have instead decided to test out the latest theory: that sitting down regularly in a comfortable chair can prove relaxing.  At first, the reporter finds himself greatly relaxed in his Queen Anne chair as the traffic and pedestrians stream past.  Then a policeman approaches and accuses him of stealing the chair.  It seems that this chair belongs to a Mrs. Edgeworth of Pinner (a suburb of London), who is holding a matching chair across the street.


We never learn the exact reason why World War Three broke out this morning, but the policeman’s actions suggest the underlying cause behind all such conflicts.  On the mistaken example that Mr. Dull does not believe he is actually a policeman, the English bobby points to the official Metropolitan Identity Code on his helmet, then crosses the street to knock down Mrs. Edgeworth and return with her other chair.  He never notices when another officer mugs the woman he has just wronged.  Instead, with Big Ben and the Palace of Westminster in the background, he steals a notepad and a pen from passing businessmen, a box of sandwiches from two young women, and breaks into a store for two beers.  Ignoring Mrs. Edgeworth’s continual struggles across the bridge, the policeman sketches out a comparison of his helmet to that of the historic Czar’s secret police.  While he expounds on the prerogatives of his office, the two men enjoy their ill-gotten lunch.

John Dull sat here in his "stolen" chair, 
long before the arrival of the London Eye.

How quickly some of our leaders forget that they hold positions of authority in order to better serve our individual needs!  While some never forget who they are and why they hold office, others orchestrate programs that will supposedly serve the needs of specific classes or groups of citizens, and develop sweeping rules which make general categories of actions criminal.  In the process, these leaders ignore or dismiss cases of genuine injustice if an individual’s situation falls between the areas covered by their broad definitions.  Believing their efforts have proven worthwhile, they happily partake of the material rewards their positions entitle them to. 


By regularly enjoying prerogatives most citizens cannot afford, members of this latter group distance themselves from their populace.  So-called accomplishments swell their chests with pride; they view themselves as the divinely-appointed embodiment of the citizenry they represent.  Competitive instincts awaken.  Local and regional officials squabble for national resources, and if national leaders decide another country has more resources than their own...well, there is always an answer for that!


Aggression never rights wrongs: violence only creates successive injustices that compound the inequity they were intended to correct.  State-sponsored acts of aggression disrupt the natural order, and the resultant “lesser” injustices (in this case, stealing a chair and other items from citizens, or mugging a woman for her purse) get overlooked in attempts to “uphold law and order.”  Amid this chaos, whether we witness violence in the streets or watch the TV news endlessly reporting on it, the tendency is to get overwhelmed.  Collapsing into paralysis, we grasp hold of what comes easily, whether it be sitting in our Queen Anne chair, watching TV, or ignoring the injustice occurring before us.  I must find comfort where I can in such uncertain crimes, we tell ourselves. 


No one--not the businessmen, the women, or the shopkeeper--rushes to aid Mrs. Edgeworth when the policeman tries to steal her purse.  (John Dull does not even report on this flagrant violation to the cameraman!)  While it does not negate one’s moral obligation, it can seem difficult for an onlooker to know whether or not he should intervene in a struggle between others he does not know, perhaps over an issue he does not fully understand.  But the dilemma is an illusion: in order to preserve justice for all, individuals must rise to aid those whose rights are trampled on, especially by an authority figure. 


In fighting for what she believes is hers, Mrs. Edgeworth shows us the way forward.  All too often we settle for being John Dull.  If only more of us could be more like Mrs. Edgeworth.


“Nationwide” can be seen in the Monty Python fourth-season episode “Hamlet.” 

Westminster Bridge in Color, and in Black & White

Having left behind the statue of the rather complex man Richard the Lionheart, the Palace of Westminster so rich in design and ornamentation, and its famous clock tower known as Big Ben (such an icon for movie-makers and TV directors), it came as a shock to find myself suddenly approaching Westminster Bridge.  Just one of many that span the River Thames, the bridge welcomes one with its elegant simplicity.  Like its sister, Lambeth Bridge, one of its original purposes might have been to provide the monarch a direct route between Lambeth Palace and the Palace of Westminster, but the colors the two are painted (green for Westminster, red for Lambeth) suggest that the modern politicians’ Houses of Commons (upholstered in green) and that of the Lords (upholstered in red) now wield the most influence over this island nation. 


I feel a strong sense of belonging as I walk across it, watching the boats cruise beneath me in the Thames, and enjoying the busyness of the cars and the double-decker buses that transport London’s eight million citizens and countless visitors to their destinations.  I try not to impede my fellow pedestrians, who stream around and past me, surging along the wide sidewalk at this city’s usual frantic pace.  I pause for long moments to capture the perfect view of this bridge in my camera, or to photograph other nearby landmarks.  I make way for those standing in line to buy a sausage or roasted peanuts from a man working off a barbecue grill fashioned from half of a metal drum.  But along with what I see, other images rush to my mind, visions that enrich my sense of presence, of the history of this stretch of metal and concrete upon which I stand.

In “The Dalek Invasion of Earth,” the Doctor and his companions have become seperated.  Barbara throws in her lot with the resistance in London, led by an injured scientist named Dortmun.  She joins an attack on the Dalek spaceport, using new bombs created by Dortmun.  But the bombs fail to injure their enemies, and their attack becomes a rout.  With the resistance in tatters, Daleks scour the city, no longer taking captives, but killing any humans they find.  Barbara and her friend Jenny must get the wheelchair-bound Dortmun out of the city.  But in order to leave London, first they must cross the River Thames.


On a bright, clear morning, Barbara and Jenny push Dortmun along the walkway which hugs the Thames.  They help Dortmun climb from his wheelchair and up the stairs to the top of the bridge.  They look in every direction for the Dalek patrols.  Then, each woman places both her hands on one of the wheelchair handles, digs her feet into the pavement, and together, they propel the injured scientist across the bridge, toward the Palace of Westminster and beyond.


Although “Doctor Who” has transported us to so many places in time and space, for me, this moment stands out.  Filmed in Black & White, and accompanied by a sparse, martial beat, the camera carries us along on the group’s desperate flight.  The group races past notable landmarks, barely avoiding Dalek patrols.  For the most part, the camera focuses upon Barbara, Jenny, and Dortmun, upon the wheelchair’s spinning wheels and the women’s racing feet.  Sometimes, all we see is the shadow the group casts as they travel a bridge and roads devoid of all other human activity.  It is one of those moments that vividly captures the group’s desperation, their hope, and their valor.  Like a red-hot branding iron, that film sequence has burned it way into my memory.  Now I find their desperate flight superimposed upon the normal activity of contemporary London life.


I know it is just another bridge, one of many that transports pedestrians, cars, and tour buses across the River Thames.  I understand that it is just another place that has served as a location shoot for a TV show or a movie.  It is just a span of metal and concrete, not worth mentioning when compared with the city’s other sights and attractions.  And yet, because of that singular moment in Doctor Who, Westminster Bridge has become so very much more.


Flooded with images both past and present, reality merges seamlessly with the fiction I hold so dear.  I am complete.