John Le Carré caused a big stir with his books about British spies, precisely because his spies didn’t cause a big stir: James Bond was nowhere to be seen. Le Carré’s spies got up in the morning, drank tea, read dispatches, talked, drank some more tea, tried to find assets on the other side who’d give them information, and finished it all off with a honking glass of scotch at the end of the day.
The new movie version of <i>Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy</i> is set in the early 70s, when things were really grim: Britain was on the verge of being declared a Third World country (it was too, people, you can look it up), the Cold War was at its height and seemed like it would never end, and office politics at the headquarters for the British spies, called the Circus, seems more centered around who’s sleeping with whom and who’s got the good expense account instead of, you know, fighting the good fight for freedom and liberty and etc etc.
Several assets on the Soviet side have gotten word out that British Intelligence has a highly placed mole (as, in fact, it really did). George Smiley (Gary Oldman, practically unrecognizable) had been let go by the organization as part of a shake-up and is now brought back in, sub rosa, to find the mole, who is one of Smiley’s contemporaries: four middle-aged men who’ve carved out their piece of the pie.
Both Darin and I had heard about this movie that you have to pay careful attention, because the important stuff will go by without anyone calling it out. Perhaps I have the attention span of a gnat, but I didn’t find this to be true. What is true is that the movie doesn’t hold your hand and it’s not drawn in gigantic day-glo colors, the way most movies are these days. In fact, the main color I remember from this movie is gray. Everything is so deeply, morosely gray. The story doesn’t have tiny details you have to follow, anyhow: it’s not like the solution is some horribly shocking thing you should have been able to put together yourself. This is the story of professional men doing their jobs, and it just so happens that it’s as bureaucratic as it is deadly.
While I enjoyed the change of pace from the usual cinema fare with its loud soundtrack and moronic dialogue, I didn’t feel the rapturous experience a lot of reviewers felt watching this. (Although…getting such a change of pace is so refreshing!) The acting is very good. The best part, for me, was the portrayal of early 70s Britain. The hairstyles, the glasses, the cars, the political tensions… does anyone feel nostalgic about anything from that time?
Well, the makers of Life on Mars seemed to feel a little nostalgic about that time. 🙂
For me, the late 60s/early 70s were when most of my favorite music was recorded. Progressive rock was at its apex (commercially, arguably creatively) at that time, and most of its purveyors were British. I imagine anyone who was into that music then probably feels some nostalgia for the era. Artists like The Who and David Bowie were also at or near the top of their careers around then.
But I don’t know much about the culture from that time other than the music.
Hi Diane,
I was all set to disagree with you, as we don’t usually have similar tastes, but you fooled me and kinda sorta liked Tinker, Tailor. I also went into the movie ready to dislike it because George Smiley wasn’t played by Alec Guiness this time. But Gary Oldman also fooled me.
I also liked the dichotomy of George Smiley’s England to the early James Bond’s of the same era — two different takes on the same period in time.
I think I (and you) enjoyed it for the very reason most people didn’t: It was slow and deliberate, well-paced and not predictable. It didn’t spoon-feed the audience. As someone once said, “Some people like steak, which has to be chewed; others like pudding, which doesn’t.”
It also didn’t make the odd loud noise for the sake of odd loud noises.
I liked the DP’s brilliant palette of grey. It was so LeCarré: Grey men in grey clothing in grey buildings in grey weather going about grey, ambiguous things. It reminded me of the Dutch painter who did his entire works in varying shades of brown.
One thing you barely touched on was the across-the-board superb acting. Oldman, of course, but Benedict Cumberbatch (of the BBC’s new Sherlock Holmes) was brilliant, as was Colin Firth, et al.
There’s something about British films, where even the smallest of roles are approached with the greatest of subtle relish. I’m thinking in particular of seeing the entire life of the young lady who worked behind the desk checking people’s bags in and out infuse her face and body language when Cumberbatch checks in. There’s such an unrequited, repressed longing there it’s almost palpable. Then Cumberbatch’s revelation and sorrow after Smiley suggests they’ll all be investigated thoroughly and perhaps the odd … attachment … perhaps should be sent away.
It’s little things American writers usually edit out in the 2nd draft, American directors usually don’t have time for, and American actors aren’t given the chance to explore.
Pity…
Mike: Oh, you’re totally right: the acting is really good (and it’s kind of boring to mention it about Oldman, Firth, Hurt, etc — the new guys, like Cumberbatch and Tom Hardy were both excellent). I loved the way they had the reveal about Cumberbatch and it was just one more thing — whereas it would have been made into a Big Character Moment in a US film.
The set design (really invoking the era) is also excellent.
Most people seem to have liked this movie a lot. (One review I read said it was the most boring movie they’d made sure they’d seen a second time, or something hilarious like that.) I honestly think it’s benefitting from the extraordinarily lowered expectations of movie-watchers these days though.
Michael: there’s absolutely a one-to-one correlation between the music and the society that it’s created in response to. Complacency doesn’t lead to good art! Suddenly I am reminded of “The Glass Teat” by Harlan Ellison — have you read that?