Review by
Eric Hillis
Directed by: Martin Ritt
Starring: Richard Burton, Claire Bloom, Oskar Werner, Michael
Hordern, Cyril Cusack, Sam Wanamaker
The Cold War has rarely been so frosty as in director Martin Ritt's
1965 adaptation of John le Carre's bestseller
The Spy Who Came In from the Cold. Thanks to James Bond, by the mid '60s spies were everywhere in movies
and on TV, but Ritt's film was one of the first to dispense with the
gadgets, musclebound henchmen and bikini clad seductresses. With
The Spy Who Came In from the Cold, Ritt presents the unglamorous reality of the spy trade, described by
its antihero, Richard Burton's cynical spook Alec Leamas, as "civil
servants playing cowboys and Indians."
When one of his operatives is gunned down while attempting to cross
Checkpoint Charlie, Leamas is relieved of his duties as head of MI6's
Berlin office and recalled to London. There he is tasked with taking part
in an elaborate ruse to convince the East Germans that he wishes to defect
to their side in order to frame a high-ranking official. This involves
Leamas taking a job at a small library, getting publicly drunk in the
nearby pubs and eventually being jailed for attacking a grocer.
Upon his release, Leamas is contacted by London based representatives of
the East German authorities, to whom he agrees to divulge the details of
his work for MI6. Leamas is whisked away to the continent, but things get
complicated when his librarian lover Nan (Claire Bloom) is made an
unwitting pawn in the operation and it appears Leamas may have been hung
out to dry by his own government.
The Spy Who Came In from the Cold is as removed from the
thrills and spills of 007 as the average East German café was from a
McDonalds. While handsome and charismatic, Burton's Leamas has the haunted
look of a man who long ago sold his soul to the devil. Burton was 40 at
time of filming, but a newspaper story tells us Leamas is a mere 30 years
old. Here is a 30 year old who could pass for 50, such is the toll his
profession has taken on him. Bloom's Nan is no Pussy Galore either. She's
a mild-mannered librarian whose involvement in the British Communist Party
makes her the perfect foil for the nefarious plot set in motion behind
Leamas's back.
That plot keeps us guessing as to who is being played by whom. In a later
Burton film, the great war movie Where Eagles Dare, there's a memorable scene in which the rug is pulled out from under us
several times to the point where we're no longer sure who the good guys
are. The Spy Who Came In from the Cold takes this idea and
stretches it out to feature length.
In this post Wikileaks world, nobody is naïve enough to believe that
Western governments play by the rules, but in 1965 the cynicism of
The Spy Who Came In from the Cold must have left quite an
impression on an audience fed a black and white, us versus them view of
the Cold War. Leamas has no interest in serving "For Queen and Country",
and we're left to surmise whether he might actually defect if the price is
right. After all, the Brits seem to have wrung the life out of him like a
wet rag. Aside from Nan, he has nothing worth returning to London for, and
he doesn't exactly seem head over heels in love with her either.
This idea of a spy who finds himself equally disillusioned by both sides
must have resonated with Ritt, who was himself blacklisted from working in
American TV as a result of his involvement with unions, but like many, had
grown contemptuous of communism by the mid '60s. That said, might it be
more than a coincidence that East Germany, with its lakes and forests,
seems far more appealing than the grim, grey portrayal of London? Think of
1965 London and you'll likely conjure up colourful images of a city in
full psychedelic swing. Not so here – the UK capital is as drained of life
as Leamas's husk of a face. You might be mistaken for believing Britain
was itself behind the Iron Curtain.
Not the most visually oriented of directors, Ritt's film is overly reliant
on dialogue to detail its twists and turns. Luckily for Ritt his Welsh
leading man possesses one of the most iconic voices ever recorded. Coupled
with his dead eyes, Burton's raspy brogue embodies Leamas's
disenfranchisement – he doesn't so much speak lines as spit them out.
The Spy Who Came In from the Cold might be a film that
portrays a derisive, distanced view of the Cold War, but there's a quiet
anger brimming throughout, ultimately expelled in a shocking ending that
likely left many viewers questioning their faith in Queen and country on
its release.
Extras:
A new audio commentary with film scholar Adrian Martin; a new video
essay by critic and filmmaker David Cairns; trailer; and a 48-page
collector's booklet.
The Spy Who Came In from the Cold is on blu-ray now from Eureka Entertainment.