"There's a mole, right at the top of the Circus"

Published in Palatinate, No.731, October 2011

Intricate Spy Game in Tom Alfredson's polished le Carré adaptation

IN the bleak days of the Cold War, espionage veteran George Smiley is cajoled from semi-retirement to uncover a Soviet agent within the “Circus”, the highest echelon of the SIS (“MI6”). John Le Carré’s Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, published in 1974, is the first novel of the Karla trilogy, later followed by The Honourable Schoolboy and Smiley's People.

If the idea of a remake inevitably excites a perennial cynicism in the minds of the purists, they can rest assured: Working Title’s new, film, version of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy echoes the 1979 BBC classic as an impeccably acted and directed version of the seminal spy thriller. Therein, Control, the Circus Chief, assigns the code names "Tinker", "Tailor", "Soldier", "Poor Man" and "Beggar Man" to various senior intelligence officers under suspicion of being a Russian mole, on the basis that, should an agent named Prideaux uncover information about the mole’s identity, he can relay it back using an easy-to-remember code unknown to the mole. The names are derived from the nursery rhyme “Tinker, Tailor”. "Sailor" is not used, to avoid confusion with "Tailor".

The iconic meeting room shot of the key players – Control (John Hurt), George Smiley (Gary Oldman), Bill Haydon (Colin Firth), Percy Alleline (Toby Jones) and Roy Bland (Ciarán Hinds) – resembles a showcase for British thespianism, so it is little wonder that the early stages of the film are a compelling interplay of mentors and protégés. Though forced out of the SIS by the ruthlessly ambitious Alleline, Smiley is coaxed back in by Control and Sir Oliver Lacon (Simon McBurney). In The Elephant Man, Toby Jones’ actor father, Freddie, was Bytes, the callous helm of the freak show that paraded Hurt’s title character as a mere object – now, Hurt assumes authority, casting a wary eye over Jones Jnr’s fervent networking in a circus that is anything but public.

Meanwhile, temporarily breaking from the suited machinations of this Old Boys’ Club, Smiley heads to Oxford, to meet with Connie Sachs (an immaculate turn by Oldman’s Nil by Mouth collaborator Kathy Burke). Eccentric yet encyclopedic in her knowledge of Soviet Intelligence, Sachs beautifully placates Smiley’s doleful manner, her retirement inglorious not so much through prevailing alcoholism but through her sense of feeling “seriously under-fucked”.

Anyone expecting striking images of Oxford similar to that so memorably accompanied by the Nunc dimittis on the small screen will be disappointed, though a magnificent shot of Paris reminds us how cosmopolitan the story is. London, Budapest and Istanbul all feature in an intricate, multi-layered narrative that is as nuanced as it is suspenseful.

Though Geoffrey Burgon’s score for the TV rendition of Tinker, Tailor is justly celebrated, Alberto Iglesias’ intense film theme recalls both Ennio Morricone and Bernard Herrmann in its seamless capacity to convey both period and simmering mood. Indeed, the Iglesias soundtrack brilliantly sums up the thriller it annotates – dramatic, and violently so, to be sure, but the kind that always places substance before style. Julio Iglesias’ disco performance of ‘La Mer’, though wonderfully out of tonal kilter with the palpably edgy feel of the film’s principal musical accompaniment, nevertheless situates an uncanny pathos within what one instinctively knows should be the solely humorous effect of such mismatched sounds.

Perhaps the standout performances come from Hurt, who turns the brooding into an art form, and, of course, from Oldman, who, like Alec Guinness’ Smiley, renders what is at best a monochrome demeanor into something mesmerizing to observe.

Complex but accessible, director Tom Alfredson's Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy balances narratological depth with pure drama, giving a renowned saga a fresh, compulsively watchable treatment.