Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn John le Carré. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng
Hiển thị các bài đăng có nhãn John le Carré. Hiển thị tất cả bài đăng

Chủ Nhật, 6 tháng 10, 2013

THE SPY WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD - Review By Greg Klymkiw - WOW! God Bless the Criterion Collection!


The Spy Who Came In From The Cold (1965) *****
Dir. Martin Ritt
Starring: Richard Burton, Claire Bloom, Oskar Werner, Sam Wanamaker, Rupert Davies, Cyril Cusack, Peter van Eyck, Michael Hordern

Review By Greg Klymkiw

"What the hell do you think spies are? Moral philosophers measuring everything they do against the word of God or Karl Marx? They're not! They're just a bunch of seedy, squalid bastards like me: little men, drunkards, queers, hen-pecked husbands, civil servants playing cowboys and Indians to brighten their rotten little lives. Do you think they sit like monks in a cell, balancing right against wrong?" - Richard Burton as Alex Leamas in Martin Ritt's film adaptation of John le Carré's The Spy Who Came In From The Cold

There are few films that approach the overwhelming sight, sound and almost rank smell of damp cold as Martin Ritt's extraordinary adaptation of John le Carré's classic novel of dirty, double-dealing espionage in London and East Germany at the height of the Cold War. It's a movie that will have haunted anyone who saw it when it first came out and it continues to hold up superbly as a sad, yet strangely suspenseful plunge into the dirty business of spying. As an adaptation from a genuinely great literary source, it's both faithful to the spirit of its writer and yet a superb entity unto itself. For those who have not read John le Carré's book, I suggest that you, like I, see the movie first, then dive into the words of a true master to supplement Ritt's phenomenal interpretation of this genuinely great work of 20th Century literature.

Alex Leamas (Richard Burton) is a spy - weary, bitter and yet, not quite ready to leave the only life he's ever known - the foul world of double-crossing to keep the West safe from the scourge of Communism - a blight not all that far removed from the purported freedoms of Democracy. He knows he's little more than a nasty, lying bureaucrat with nothing left but cynicism and the skill to do what he does - to what end, he continues to even question - but to forge on, he must. His mission is to stay out "in the cold" which is to say, he must keep his carcass embroiled in the Cold War for yet another stinking job.

This time out, will not be much of a stretch. He'll live a life of alcohol abuse and loneliness until taken in by a sweet young librarian (Claire Bloom) with leftist ideals and ties. He'll hopefully be targeted by Eastern-Bloc double agents to sell out Blighty for some filthy lucre - though in so doing, he'll be part of a master chess game played out by his boss Control (Cyril Cusack) and agent George Smiley (Rupert Davies) - characters respectively played by John Hurt and Gary Oldman in the great Tomas Alfredson 2011 film adaptation Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy of 2011.

Eventually approached by the gay Brit traitor Ashe (Michael Hordern), he's placed in the hands of Peters (Sam Wanamaker, the superb blacklisted American actor) who transports Leamas behind the Iron Curtain to spill his guts out to the German-Jew Fiedler (Oskar Werner) whose ultimate goal is to out the vicious anti-Semite assassin Mundt (Peter van Eyck) and hence allow the Germans to execute their own man instead of getting Brit hands dirty.

Needless to say, things will go seriously wrong.

Ritt, of course, was perhaps one of the best directors to tackle this material - his ability to work within genres that required a much more humanist quality while maintaining a sense of razzle-dazzle is what made Hud such a tremendous revisionist take on the American West and so much of his later work continued in this tradition. Of course, as had already been established, Ritt was also a master of eliciting terrific performances and there is not a single false note from any actor in this powerful antithesis to the over-the-top derring-do of the James Bond franchise from the same period. The violence in Bond was pure cartoon viscera, le Carré's was just plain viscera and while Bond was banging anything and everything of the female persuasion, le Carré'gave Alex Leamas one single, gentle woman - a born victim due to high ideals and someone Leamas could genuinely love.

Legendary Brit cinematographer Oswald Morris created such a sumptuous range of grey here, which proves again just how much we've lost by not using genuine black and white FILM more often in the modern world of cinema and just how much the medium stands to lose by its full-on conversion to both digital photography and theatrical presentation. Morris also dazzles us with the fact that black and white is as replete with "colour" in its myriad of shades as anything splashed in full-on technicolor.

The Spy Who Came In From The Cold might well be the greatest espionage thriller ever made and this is certainly no mean-feat - especially when one considers how extraordinary Tomas Alfredson's Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy was. Granted, the films were based upon le Carré books separated by a few years (and lest we forget the huge span of over 40 years between films), but it's certainly a testament to Alfredson that he superbly dabbled with a completely different end-of-era take than Ritt - one didn't even live through as Ritt had. Ritt, of course, was well acquainted with one of the effects of the Cold War - the McCarthy witch hunts and years later made the very powerful blacklist drama The Front from Walter Bernstein's great screenplay. Also, Alfredson's source material proved, in many ways, far more challenging given that it centred almost solely upon the inside bureaucratic wrangling of British Intelligence whereas Ritt had the advantage of being "in the Cold" (as it were).

Burton and Oldman both proved to be extraordinary actors to render the two very different le Carré heroes - Oldman's poker face was perfectly in keeping with the role of George Smiley. Burton, however, had quite a few more opportunities to chew the scenery with his role, but he proved, as he so often did, that with the right role, material and director, he was an unstoppable force and when he needed to maintain a poker face, as he needed to here, he did it better than anyone.

Finally, The Spy Who Came In From The Cold, plays very much closer to tragedy - so much so, that it manages to have as much resonance now, if not more than it did at the time of its release. The Cold War of le Carré's work is long behind us and yet, we're currently in the midst of more than one Cold War - the "War" on Terror and the rise and seeming unstoppability of the Stalin-like Vladimir Putin (not to mention the conflicts between the West and countries like China and Northern Korea). Characters like the one played by Burton, Alex Leamas, are as numerous and expendable in today's dirty world of international espionage as they ever were. John le Carré and Martin Ritt, rendered works that were, like all great tragic tales, universal and timeless.

And here we are, 48 years later and The Spy Who Came In From The Cold feels like it could have been made just yesterday. If that's not universal, nothing is.

The Criterion Collection Blu-Ray is yet another masterpiece of home entertainment bravado and will hopefully introduce a whole new generation or two to the genius of Ritt's great film. The disc is replete with a bevy of fascinating extra features. Included in the presentation are the following: An all-new, high-definition digital restoration, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack, a new exclusive interview with author John le Carré, a selected scene-specific commentary with Oswald Morris, The Secret Center: John le Carré, a 2000 BBC documentary on the author’s life and work, an interview with actor Richard Burton from a 1967 episode of the BBC series Acting in the ’60s, conducted by critic Kenneth Tynan, an audio conversation from 1985 between director Martin Ritt and film historian Patrick McGilligan, a gallery of set designs, the trailer and booklet featuring a Michael Sragow essay.

Thứ Hai, 19 tháng 3, 2012

TINKER TAILOR SOLDIER SPY on Blu Ray and DVD - Review By Greg Klymkiw



"Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy" is now available in North America on Blu-Ray and DVD in North America via eOne Films (Canada) and Universal (USA). It's a stunning transfer and features a great commentary track with director Alfredson and star Gary Oldman (though with a few annoying blank gaps). The European Region B version on Optimum has quite a few more goodies on it, though, so if you have a multi-region player, you might be better off buying this one. If you missed this movie on a big screen - as per usual, SHAME ON YOU! Buy it! Watch it! Cherish it!
Buy the North American version of "Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy" on Amazon.ca and Amazon.com with good extras, but missing the super extra stuff on the European version or buy the super-deluxe European Region B version (with lots of great features not on the North American version) of "Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy" at Amazon.UK


Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011) dir. Tomas Alfredson
Starring: Gary Oldman, John Hurt, Toby Jones, Colin Firth, Ciarán Hinds, Benedict Cumberbatch, Mark Strong, David Dencik, Kathy Burke, Simon McBurney

****

By Greg Klymkiw

When we think of bureaucrats, if we bother to think about them at all, our first thought is usually that of a pencil-pushing-paper-shuffling civil servant toiling at a desk under fluorescent lights in a drab office filled to the rafters with others of the same ilk. I am even more uncharitable. I prefer to think of most civil servants as pathetic cogs within an imperfect machine (a Franz Kafka nightmare) who are more interested in feathering their own nests as they "make work" and scavenge about like turkey vultures upon any opportunities to extend their miserable existence in order to keep their position secure.

Perhaps the best description of a bureaucrat is the one detailed by the German sociologist Max Weber. According to Weber, a bureaucrat is appointed to his or her position solely on the basis of conduct - pure and simple (those intent on rocking boats need not apply) and faithfully, almost-blindly exercises whatever duties are delegated in strict accordance with rules that are completely impersonal. The key emolument, according to Weber, is a lifelong career and the promise of advancement (including benefits and a healthy pension). Most importantly, the bureaucrat must place his or her judgment to serve higher authorities, thus sacrificing said personal decisions if they conflict with official duties as prescribed by regulatory authorities.

Mr. Weber pretty much encapsulates my own thoughts on the matter, but with far more charity than I'm usually prepared to extend. My idea of a good bureaucrat (not always an oxymoron) is one who utilizes rules as a mere guideline and does, in fact, flout the conventional expectations when the cold black and white demands interpretation, thought and personal choices that result in better decisions within the course of exercising those duties which are ultimately there for the betterment of those who require them - especially when the prescribed formulae have NOTHING to do with reality.

When one thinks about spies engaged in international espionage, one seldom thinks of them as bureaucrats. Far too many examples exist in popular culture to allow for this. When our thoughts turn to espionage, we think of Sean Connery as James Bond - immaculately attired, bedding down a bonanza of babes, downing martinis shaken not stirred and equipped with the sort of derring-do usually suited to a comic book superhero. We certainly do not think of men attired in cheap three-piece suits, bags under their eyes, the weight of the world on their shoulders and pushing pencils whilst nattering on in buzz-word-infused babble.

Novelist John le Carré changed all that with his numerous bestselling thrillers that placed the emphasis on the drudgery and bureaucracy of spying and one of his best books, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy eventually became a much-beloved BBC miniseries starring Alec Guinness as the poker-faced hero George Smiley. Given the complexities of the chess-like plot, one would think a feature length version of the book would be a losing proposition.

Not so.

With the brilliant Swedish filmmaker Tomas (Let The Right One In) Alfredson at the helm, the 2011 feature version of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is one of the best movies of the year and one of the great spy movies of all time.

It's a simple enough plot for a movie like this. In fact, it's the plot's simplicity which brilliantly allows the tale to work with the sort of red-herring-layered elements, complex characterizations and thematic concerns that delve deep below the surface.

George Smiley (Gary Oldman) and his boss Control (John Hurt) are high level members of the British intelligence service who are forced into retirement when a mission to uncover a Soviet double agent in their midst goes horribly wrong, resulting in one of Control's top agents Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong) falling victim to a Soviet assassin in Hungary. A new breed/regime comprising Bill Haydon (Colin Firth), Percy Alleline (Toby Jones), Roy Bland (Ciarán Hinds) and Toby Esterhase (David Dencik) take over. One of them is a traitor. All four are especially persnickety, slimy, power-hungry bureaucrats and Bill, in particular, is pleased as punch to have been dinking his trusted colleague's wife.

After Control's death, Smiley is secretly coaxed out of retirement to ferret out the Russkie mole. With the help of a keen young agent Peter Guillam (Benedict Cumberbatch) a former audio-visual specialist Connie Sachs (Kathy Burke), a rogue bag-boy Ricki Tarr (Tom Hardy), memories of Control's tutelage and a surprise ally, a complex chess game plays itself out as the layers are slowly stripped away to reveal the truth.

Simple stuff and even those who haven't read the book and/or seen the BBC miniseries might well figure out the mystery long before the movie ends. It doesn't really matter because frankly, it's the ride that counts.

And what a ride!

Director Alfredson plunges us into the bleak, cold, rainy nightmare of the Cold War during the early 70s. With cinematography by Hoyte Van Hoytema (The Fighter) that harks back to the great work of Owen Roizman (Network, The Exorcist, The French Connection, Three Days of the Condor), Alfredson delivers a movie set in the 70s that looks and feels like it was MADE in the 70s. With gorgeous grain dancing across every frame, we're plunged into the murky world of bureaucrats playing deadly cat and mouse games.

And make no mistake about it, this is a world of civil servants - sitting at ratty, old office furniture, under bleak fluorescent lights, chain smoking as they engage in endless discussion whilst guzzling back cloudy cups of tea. While there are a handful of brutal encounters, they're dealt with efficiently, but not gratuitously. The suspense comes from subtleties and is found in the most unusual places - one great set piece that will have audiences on the edges of their seats involves the simple act of going through files.

I kid you not.

Alfredson's pace is masterful. It moves like a snail - but a very creepy, crawly, determined snail. Every look, gesture, eyebrow twitch, hushed word and stealthy gait explodes with resonance. He creates a very real, compelling world and one that is populated with complex and compelling characters.

The state of distrust and paranoia within the bureaucracy is especially creepy. Buried in deep shadows, dim light and the aforementioned dancing grain, the first two lines of dialogue in the movie are: "You weren't followed?" and "Trust no one." The latter is especially apt in the world Alfredson depicts, but frankly, fits very nicely with the Kafka-like nightmare that IS the civil service. And interestingly, as the movie progresses, it's so cool seeing the aforementioned Max Weber description of bureaucrats and bureaucracies play themselves out within the movie. It's like being a fly on the wall of a very strange world - one that plays out in government offices across the globe on a daily basis, but even stranger when they're set in the context of intelligence gathering and subtle back room war between super powers.

And like mentioned above, good civil servants know the rules, but if they know them really well and play by them, they also know when the rules need to be broken in order to move things beyond points of utter stagnation.

Not a single cast member seems out of place in this great picture - it's one terrific piece of acting after another. Gary Oldman, however, owns this movie and delivers the performance of his lifetime. His astonishing poker-face and rigid body language are stunningly controlled. His most phenomenal work is when Smiley decides when to display, ever-so subtly, something resembling an emotion wherein we see what Smiley wants us to see, or what we (and other characters) THINK Smiley wants us to see. And let it be said that Oldman delivers one of the most staggering screen monologues in movie history - it's up there with the greats: Richard Burton's "Bergin" speech in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Marlon Brando's "fake Ophelia" lament in Last Tango in Paris and Al Pacino's "football is life" speech in Any Given Sunday.

Finally, it's not just the impeccable taste and artistry with which the movie is rendered that makes it such an exquisite experience. The movie holds up to repeat viewings BECAUSE it all doesn't hinge on the mechanics of its admittedly solid plot, but rather the atmosphere of despair, adversity and pathetic game-playing that drives the world of these spies - on both sides of the fence. There are a series of flashbacks to a Christmas party where all the bureaucrats are united in the common goal of joy - albeit joy fuelled by the melancholy of booze - but they are UNITED, under one roof (albeit one lit with grotesque fluorescent lights) and amidst the revelry, a betrayal that's somewhat deeper than mere turn-coating and double-dealing is revealed and the sadness this evokes cuts to the bone.

Cutting even deeper still is something John Hurt's character Control declares. He says, "Nothing is genuine anymore." And he's right. When the old gives way to the new, it's not always rebirth which yields results - especially not in bureaucracies. Rebirth often means the death of that which is genuine - when the typical bureaucrats, those nest-feathering prigs seeking self-preservation over adherence to the honest goals of the civil service (no matter how coldly arrived at), worm their way into the works - gumming them up and casting aside the genuine values of those who would rather do good.

It's a great movie!












Thứ Hai, 19 tháng 12, 2011

TINKER TAILOR SOLDIER SPY - Review By Greg Klymkiw - "Nothing is genuine anymore," declares a chief intelligence bureaucrat in this genuinely great motion picture. From the brilliant director of LET THE RIGHT ONE IN, this is one of the finest spy thrillers ever committed to film.


Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011) dir. Tomas Alfredson
Starring: Gary Oldman, John Hurt, Toby Jones, Colin Firth, Ciarán Hinds, Benedict Cumberbatch, Mark Strong, David Dencik, Kathy Burke, Simon McBurney

****

By Greg Klymkiw

When we think of bureaucrats, if we bother to think about them at all, our first thought is usually that of a pencil-pushing-paper-shuffling civil servant toiling at a desk under fluorescent lights in a drab office filled to the rafters with others of the same ilk. I am even more uncharitable. I prefer to think of most civil servants as pathetic cogs within an imperfect machine (a Franz Kafka nightmare) who are more interested in feathering their own nests as they "make work" and scavenge about like turkey vultures upon any opportunities to extend their miserable existence in order to keep their position secure.

Perhaps the best description of a bureaucrat is the one detailed by the German sociologist Max Weber. According to Weber, a bureaucrat is appointed to his or her position solely on the basis of conduct - pure and simple (those intent on rocking boats need not apply) and faithfully, almost-blindly exercises whatever duties are delegated in strict accordance with rules that are completely impersonal. The key emolument, according to Weber, is a lifelong career and the promise of advancement (including benefits and a healthy pension). Most importantly, the bureaucrat must place his or her judgment to serve higher authorities, thus sacrificing said personal decisions if they conflict with official duties as prescribed by regulatory authorities.

Mr. Weber pretty much encapsulates my own thoughts on the matter, but with far more charity than I'm usually prepared to extend. My idea of a good bureaucrat (not always an oxymoron) is one who utilizes rules as a mere guideline and does, in fact, flout the conventional expectations when the cold black and white demands interpretation, thought and personal choices that result in better decisions within the course of exercising those duties which are ultimately there for the betterment of those who require them - especially when the prescribed formulae have NOTHING to do with reality.

When one thinks about spies engaged in international espionage, one seldom thinks of them as bureaucrats. Far too many examples exist in popular culture to allow for this. When our thoughts turn to espionage, we think of Sean Connery as James Bond - immaculately attired, bedding down a bonanza of babes, downing martinis shaken not stirred and equipped with the sort of derring-do usually suited to a comic book superhero. We certainly do not think of men attired in cheap three-piece suits, bags under their eyes, the weight of the world on their shoulders and pushing pencils whilst nattering on in buzz-word-infused babble.

Novelist John le Carré changed all that with his numerous bestselling thrillers that placed the emphasis on the drudgery and bureaucracy of spying and one of his best books, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy eventually became a much-beloved BBC miniseries starring Alec Guinness as the poker-faced hero George Smiley. Given the complexities of the chess-like plot, one would think a feature length version of the book would be a losing proposition.

Not so.

With the brilliant Swedish filmmaker Tomas (Let The Right One In) Alfredson at the helm, the 2011 feature version of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is one of the best movies of the year and one of the great spy movies of all time.

It's a simple enough plot for a movie like this. In fact, it's the plot's simplicity which brilliantly allows the tale to work with the sort of red-herring-layered elements, complex characterizations and thematic concerns that delve deep below the surface.

George Smiley (Gary Oldman) and his boss Control (John Hurt) are high level members of the British intelligence service who are forced into retirement when a mission to uncover a Soviet double agent in their midst goes horribly wrong, resulting in one of Control's top agents Jim Prideaux (Mark Strong) falling victim to a Soviet assassin in Hungary. A new breed/regime comprising Bill Haydon (Colin Firth), Percy Alleline (Toby Jones), Roy Bland (Ciarán Hinds) and Toby Esterhase (David Dencik) take over. One of them is a traitor. All four are especially persnickety, slimy, power-hungry bureaucrats and Bill, in particular, is pleased as punch to have been dinking his trusted colleague's wife.

After Control's death, Smiley is secretly coaxed out of retirement to ferret out the Russkie mole. With the help of a keen young agent Peter Guillam (Benedict Cumberbatch) a former audio-visual specialist Connie Sachs (Kathy Burke), a rogue bag-boy Ricki Tarr (Tom Hardy), memories of Control's tutelage and a surprise ally, a complex chess game plays itself out as the layers are slowly stripped away to reveal the truth.

Simple stuff and even those who haven't read the book and/or seen the BBC miniseries might well figure out the mystery long before the movie ends. It doesn't really matter because frankly, it's the ride that counts.

And what a ride!

Director Alfredson plunges us into the bleak, cold, rainy nightmare of the Cold War during the early 70s. With cinematography by Hoyte Van Hoytema (The Fighter) that harks back to the great work of Owen Roizman (Network, The Exorcist, The French Connection, Three Days of the Condor), Alfredson delivers a movie set in the 70s that looks and feels like it was MADE in the 70s. With gorgeous grain dancing across every frame, we're plunged into the murky world of bureaucrats playing deadly cat and mouse games.

And make no mistake about it, this is a world of civil servants - sitting at ratty, old office furniture, under bleak fluorescent lights, chain smoking as they engage in endless discussion whilst guzzling back cloudy cups of tea. While there are a handful of brutal encounters, they're dealt with efficiently, but not gratuitously. The suspense comes from subtleties and is found in the most unusual places - one great set piece that will have audiences on the edges of their seats involves the simple act of going through files.

I kid you not.

Alfredson's pace is masterful. It moves like a snail - but a very creepy, crawly, determined snail. Every look, gesture, eyebrow twitch, hushed word and stealthy gait explodes with resonance. He creates a very real, compelling world and one that is populated with complex and compelling characters.

The state of distrust and paranoia within the bureaucracy is especially creepy. Buried in deep shadows, dim light and the aforementioned dancing grain, the first two lines of dialogue in the movie are: "You weren't followed?" and "Trust no one." The latter is especially apt in the world Alfredson depicts, but frankly, fits very nicely with the Kafka-like nightmare that IS the civil service. And interestingly, as the movie progresses, it's so cool seeing the aforementioned Max Weber description of bureaucrats and bureaucracies play themselves out within the movie. It's like being a fly on the wall of a very strange world - one that plays out in government offices across the globe on a daily basis, but even stranger when they're set in the context of intelligence gathering and subtle back room war between super powers.

And like mentioned above, good civil servants know the rules, but if they know them really well and play by them, they also know when the rules need to be broken in order to move things beyond points of utter stagnation.

Not a single cast member seems out of place in this great picture - it's one terrific piece of acting after another. Gary Oldman, however, owns this movie and delivers the performance of his lifetime. His astonishing poker-face and rigid body language are stunningly controlled. His most phenomenal work is when Smiley decides when to display, ever-so subtly, something resembling an emotion wherein we see what Smiley wants us to see, or what we (and other characters) THINK Smiley wants us to see. And let it be said that Oldman delivers one of the most staggering screen monologues in movie history - it's up there with the greats: Richard Burton's "Bergin" speech in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, Marlon Brando's "fake Ophelia" lament in Last Tango in Paris and Al Pacino's "football is life" speech in Any Given Sunday.

Finally, it's not just the impeccable taste and artistry with which the movie is rendered that makes it such an exquisite experience. The movie holds up to repeat viewings BECAUSE it all doesn't hinge on the mechanics of its admittedly solid plot, but rather the atmosphere of despair, adversity and pathetic game-playing that drives the world of these spies - on both sides of the fence. There are a series of flashbacks to a Christmas party where all the bureaucrats are united in the common goal of joy - albeit joy fuelled by the melancholy of booze - but they are UNITED, under one roof (albeit one lit with grotesque fluorescent lights) and amidst the revelry, a betrayal that's somewhat deeper than mere turn-coating and double-dealing is revealed and the sadness this evokes cuts to the bone.

Cutting even deeper still is something John Hurt's character Control declares. He says, "Nothing is genuine anymore." And he's right. When the old gives way to the new, it's not always rebirth which yields results - especially not in bureaucracies. Rebirth often means the death of that which is genuine - when the typical bureaucrats, those nest-feathering prigs seeking self-preservation over adherence to the honest goals of the civil service (no matter how coldly arrived at), worm their way into the works - gumming them up and casting aside the genuine values of those who would rather do good.

It's a great movie!

"Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy" is currently in theatrical release via E-One Entertainment.