The Naked Runner

A British espionage drama; A story based on a premise that British Intelligence cannot assign one of its own agents to murder a defector to Russia. Frank Sinatra's performance was excellent - the best thing about the film. He gave a convincing portrayal of a middle aged man under duress, forced into completing a dangerous mission. The director's stylish direction and trademark camerawork created a distinct atmosphere as an espionage thriller, though it was hard to keep this consistent when the plot became protracted. The story dullens in the middle and is marred by an abrupt ending. The locations are all interesting, particularly post-war Leipzig.

I liked the Mauser gun that Sinatra used to kill the unhappy man with glasses. Then, the Romanian Nadia Gray makes a big role from a small part. Peter Vaughan and Derren Nesbitt both steal the film with their special performances. Sinatra is the same as in all his films, it's not bad but not great. Edward Fox has a role too small to show how great he is. Nobody runs naked in this movie, the title was chosen just to attract. In my opinion, the Russians would have boarded Frenzl directly on a plane to Moscow, they would not have traveled all over Europe, only to play the English game, to psychically prepare Laker-Sinatra for assassination.

This is an excellent spy thriller. The plot gets tangled at times, like what was that all about at the airport and the rifle? Sinatra is great and a well chosen international cast. It may be a B grade movie but you will certainly be entertained. The director uses a plethora of different camera angles which I thought were very good. It is too bad they didn't know how to end it.

Based on Francis Clifford's novel of the same name, The Naked Runner is an obscure but creditable thriller, and a rarely seen entry in Frank Sinatra's filmography.

To discuss the plot would be to spoil it so I won't do that. Suffice to say, furniture designer Sam Laker is pressured by a friend working for British Intelligence into doing a job in Leipzig to help an old wartime flame... but nothing is as it seems once he reaches East Germany. At that point we are firmly on Le Carre territory, with cross following double cross all the way to the end. And it is the end that is the problem; it cannot carry the weight of everything that has passed before.

The reasons for this are fairly obvious: firstly, in the novel, the reader is as oblivious as Laker as to what is going on and greets every new plot twist with a frustration and incomprehension that Laker shares. This serves to heighten suspense at every level, and Laker's character becomes a fascinating comparison exercise with our own reactions as a reader. The writer of the film, Stanley Mann, chose to place the viewer firmly on the other side of the plot - so we know what is happening to Laker, and why. This serves to undermine him as a character, making him appear hapless, transient, and surly; that Sinatra plays him as such reflects, I think, that he understood as a performer that a narrative mistake had been made. Secondly, the ending is abrupt; indeed Laker's exclusion, you might almost say his quarantine, from the plot is solved by precisely five seconds of hurried dialogue over the end credits of the movie. This is a serious error of judgment that leaves the viewer with a profound sense of disappointment, which is why I've titled this review The Non-Nude Runner: I felt a little robbed.

Apart from the botched ending it is an entertaining yarn. There are excellent performances by Peter Vaughn and Derren Nesbitt. Sinatra is very good too - his performance is low-key and it's obvious he had carefully studied the textbook performance for this kind of role; that of Richard Burton in The Spy Who Came In From The Cold.

Recommended for fans of Sinatra, and followers of cold war thrillers. But make sure you read the book - it's excellent.

Frank Sinatra's previous two films had flopped and he was sufficiently impressed with 'The Ipcress File' to work with Sidney J. Furie in this adaptation of Frances Clifford's novel. Although it fared pretty well at the box office as a film it must be accounted a failure. A defector has to be assassinated and British Intelligence is running out of time to find a suitable killer. He has to be sufficiently motivated and a crack shot. Agent Slattery sees a photograph in the paper of former wartime friend Sam Laker and realises that he has found the perfect candidate.......So far so good but thereafter the film falls down. Rather than letting the film speak for itself we are subjected to endless scenes of psycho-babble between a psychiatrist, Slattery and a cabinet minister describing the means employed to get Laker to do the job. Screenwriter Stanley Mann and director Furie have obviously decided to aim their film at the slowest-witted person watching and thereby robbed it of its impact. Also the ending is too abrupt to be satisfying. This is a pity because Sinatra is excellent as Laker and possesses the quality that great stars have of making you care what happens to them. Peter Vaughan and Derren Nesbitt give good support and there is a very nice performance from Toby Robins. Otto Heller is the cinematographer and there is a haunting theme tune by Harry Sukman which Sinatra later recorded as 'You are there' with lyrics by Paul Francis Webster. Critic Philip French coined the phrase 'Sidney J. Furie, signifying nothing'. A harsh judgement but regarding this film it certainly holds true.