Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (2011, Tomas Alfredson)
Boy did this film have a lot of hype going into it: a beautifully crafted trailer, an abundance of positive reviews and a cast list that reads like the nominees for the Academy Awards (and no doubt many will feature in the coming year). I went in completely blind not having read the original John le Carré novel or been alive to see the 1979 BBC Drama and as such I was suitably prepared; switched on, concentration levels peaked, ready to immerse myself in the “film event of the year”.
The screen is black for what seems like an eternity; painstakingly slowly we fade in on the vigilant peeling back of a door. Entering the room we see Control, John Hurt, at a desk – brow etched with worry. “Moscow planted a mole”, he croaks “...it is one of five men”, and so the story begins. Moscow has a mole infiltrated at the highest ranks of the British secret service during the peak of the Cold War and Control wants information on whom the traitor may be. Sets up like your typical spy thriller – double agents, no one can be trusted, not all is what it seems and so on. Simple - no? Well...not really.
It’s ever so slightly more complicated. Heed my advice when I warn you not to look in your pic ‘n’ mix for that elusive last fizzy cola bottle. As much as an ill timed glance away from the screen and you could find yourself missing a subtle shifting in ones seat or a twitch of an eyebrow that could have given you as much of a hint as to the outcome of the story as anything is as likely to. Tinker, Tailor is as mentally draining a movie as you are likely to find anywhere this year.
That’s not to say that it isn’t highly enjoyable, although if I am speaking frankly I cannot forgive the filmmakers for their self-indulgence. For a relatively novice feature length director Tomas Alfredson has done an incredible job, the directing really is impeccable, the cinematography is also immense; every scene drips with atmosphere and the acting is second to none. Nevertheless I found Tinker, Tailor in real danger of drowning in its own perfection, like a beautiful girl that lingers for too long in front of her own reflection it wouldn’t allow me to fall in love because it loved itself too much. I can only compare the viewing experience to what I would imagine witnessing a work of art in progress must feel like; knowing you are in the presence of something special but not wanting to see the brush strokes.
Don’t get me wrong, the film doesn’t feel half-cut, it’s just exceptionally raw, this is not Hollywood. The narrative is relentless, rattling along at such a pace as to almost alienate anyone not familiar with the source material juxtaposed by the tempo of the physical action on screen, which is as dreary as the London weather hanging over many scenes. I can think of three or four portions of the story where the action increases to a point you could label a ‘set-piece’, at a push, but predominately the narrative is extremely dialogue heavy and the story is told in the body language and on the faces of the ‘Circus’ agents, as much as in their actions.
When the dust settles and it is no longer ‘cool’ to agree with the reviews and buzz coming out of the film world surrounding Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy it will still be remembered as an exceptional piece of cinema that succeeds in being entirely engrossing, extraordinarily clever and emotionally forceful without ever pressing anything upon the viewer. However, in time its (minor) flaws will be more apparent and I really struggle to excuse the overzealous actions of art-house filmmakers that so often end up alienating the audience rather than drawing them in. So close to being great, still a marvellous piece of cinema worth seeing for the performances of the cast alone.
4/5
