O Espião que Saiu do Frio

I read the book about three years ago and was prepared to be disappointed with the feature as it's a grim book and I thought they'd soften it a little, the movie is excellent though, they made a couple of changes but all for the best, anyone who thinks spying was/is a glamorous occupation should check the film out, LeCarre actually worked as a spy too which adds weight to his dark and realistic (in my opinion)view of this filthy job. My favourite feature of the film is the contempt with which each of the communist spies treats his inferiors as the chain of command is followed, it's a beautiful touch which I don't remember from the book, and by the time Leamass starts laughing at it I was right there with him. I loved this film and can't recommend it enough, Burton is brilliant, some of his cold stares as things start going bad are magnificent, and of course he plays a great drunk... it's a nice script too.

I had a relative who in the fringes of their job came into contact with people from the intelligence services.

They always said real spies were less James Bond and more Alec Leamas.

Middle aged, bitter, alone, likely to be divorced, drink too much, politically slightly left of centre.

John Le Carre's The Spy Who Came In from the Cold is noted for maybe showing the true face of spycraft.

On the fringes it has characters like George Smiley. As it goes on, the only person in control is Control. His talk to Leamas about the dirty things the spy services have to do. It is not small talk. It is the literal truth.

Alec Leamas (Richard Burton) messes up an operation in Berlin and is recalled to Britain.

He has been given a new assignment. Leamas has to pretend to have been thrown out by the security services.

It is a ruse for Leamas to come into the attention of British communists and East German intelligence. Be seen as a potential defector.

Leamas is meant to bring down an East German high ranking intelligence officer named Mundt. Leamas finds himself deep of a complex and messy espionage game.

American director Martin Ritt seems to be at ease with such complex material. He makes sure to include a pivotal scene where an important plot point is explained. So many times, espionage films want to leave it dense.

Ritt was left wing and a victim of the McCarthyite witch hunts. Maybe that explained why he was able to identify with an outsider like Leamas and the complex manoeuvrings of the intelligence agencies.

As for Burton, he was already halfway there as the self loathing alcoholic Leamas. The rest was courtesy of a good script and his acting ability.

Having just read LeCarré's first novel, 'Call for the Dead', I am now appreciating his third novel 'The Spy Who Came in From the Cold' even more. This film adaptation directed by Martin Ritt is a fine preamble to the masterful BBC series 'Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy' and 'Smiley's People'. One of the joys of LeCarré's novels is that many characters return again and again. Mundt, the "villain" in 'Spy...' first appears in 'Call..' and as usual LeCarré wraps up a few loose ends from the previous story.

This black and white film recreates the sullen atmosphere of cold war espionage in a way that color seems to diminish for some unexplainable reason. Those were black and white kinda times in my memory. Depressing, frightening and dour.

George Smiley makes a small appearance, albeit very important as a character in the plot line, and is nicely played by Rupert Davies, capturing the diffident and wry Smiley as effectively as Guinness did later on and Denholm Elliot even further on in the TV film 'A Murder of Quality'. Cyril Cusack's Control could easily be the younger version of Alexander Knox's masterful rendition in the Smiley TV shows. The continuity suggested in all of these films is very satisfying. It's a shame so many of the other versions of LeCarré's novels are so mediocre... ie 'The Little Drummer Girl' with a totally miscast Diane Keaton, and 'The Russia House', too Hollywood by half.

Richard Burton turns in just about the greatest performance of his life here. He is the embodiment of the disillusioned, bitter and down-trodden ego-maniac that seems to be the basic cocktail for a spy's personality, according to LeCarré.

I've seen this film many times but just recently spotted LeCarré himself (at least it certainly looks like him) as an extra in a short scene. As Leamas is making his roundabout way to Smiley's house at 9 Bywater Street, he is exiting the first of 2 taxis. As he does so a tall, lean man in black is walking towards him. Ritt seems to be focusing the camera on this "extra" actor who actually makes furtive glances at Leamas. It is later revealed that Leamas has been followed by the Communists. Could LeCarré be playing that non-speaking, uncredited part of the Eastern "watcher" trailing Leamas to Smiley's house? Wouldn't surprise me in the least. It's a part LeCarré would have enjoyed playing, I think.

And, like Hitchcock, LeCarré has appeared in film adaptations of his books before.

Claire Bloom is excellent as the naive English communist who hasn't got a clue as to what she's supporting. The end of this film is always shocking to me. The ruthlessness of the spy-masters, the lies, the back-stabbing.... There is nothing over-blown in this film. It's all very subtle and intriguing and with the passage of time just gets more and more fascinating.

Highly recommended to fans of this genre, especially LeCarré fanatics. If you haven't read his books you are missing out on perhaps the finest living writer of the English language. Some "experts" think his writing style is out of date because the plots are so involved and the prose so full of humor and political incorrectness; I read something to that effect in the most recent edition of the 'Halliwell' guide. Perhaps the editor of that book has A.D.D. or something, or perhaps he's just seen to many glitzy, empty flicks designed to entertain the gawping masses, I don't know. To me, LeCarré will never go out of style and it is to be hoped the film adaptations of his books will continue to be made. A few remakes wouldn't be out of order either.

It seems to me as though no one remembers this film. In fact, I think that it would be fair to say that I wouldn't have become intrigued enough by it to finally rent if I hadn't seen just the briefest of clips of it on an ABC news broadcast. When I think about it, I realize why should anyone remember it? This was made during the Golden Age of Bond, which this film acts as a dark mirror to. More's the pity, actually, as this was one of Richard Burton's finest performances.

Burton is cast as Alex Leamas, a nerve-dead, aged secret operative operating out of West Berlin. After a routine assignment goes awry, Leamas is sent home and out of the service. He struggles to try to live a normal, average life as a librarian's assistant, but he can't make it work for him (something that is not helped by his chronic alcoholism). This fact is made forcefully clear when he winds up beating a local grocer and is sentenced to jail time. Slowly but surely, he allows himself to be pulled back into the Cold War he operated in, not suspecting or maybe not even caring that his superiors are setting him up for a fall.

One will never mistake Alex Leamas' grey, rainy world for the sunlight universe of James Bond. It offers what is probably the ugliest depiction of the Great Game on film: drunkards, ex-Nazis, Jews, and die-hard Communists swimming like sharks through a fish pond, all of them devouring any who get in their way. None have any more than lip-service loyalty to their fellow operatives, their countries, or maybe even their own ideologies. At it's center stands Burton, playing Leamas as a walking dead man, festering with hate, resentment, and cynicism at the system that eventually sends him into the gutter. His devastating parked car monologue alone is worth the price of renting this one from the local video store.

It's bitter cynic tone may have been the film's undoing; rarely have I seen a film so downbeat in it's depiction of humanity. Still, it is not one that deserves to be forgotten.

Black and white, made in the Sixties, a spy film without gadgets - has bummer written all over it, right? Well, no. Forget all that James Bond cack and the good guys in the West vs. the evil guys in the East schlock, once you have seen The Spy Who Came In From The Cold, you feel you know the seedy world of spying inside-out. Well actually, for all I know Spy is just as much fantasy as all that ridiculous James Bond glamour. But that isn't the point. Spy is, after all, only a film, but it is a film which carries a hell of a punch. No, I really do not know whether this portrays the real world of spying, but I have strong suspicion that it does. There are no good guys and bad guys in Spy (and possibly in the real spy world), just intelligent, devious and utterly ruthless men and women who simply want to make sure that the other side doesn't get to win. That, it would seem, is the one principle dear to both sides: make sure you don't lose. In the process of not losing, people are highly expendable. Yes, I'm sure that some agents occasionally use guns and bombs to kill people, but I'm even more sure that the most effective weapon either side has is intellect. Spy is a joy. It takes a little while for the essential story to begin, but that is necessary. If you are reading this before deciding to see it, see it and stick with it. You ain't seen deviousness until you have seen the ruthless deviousness portrayed in Spy. As for the film itself - I have rather been rattling on about spying in general rather than the film - there is not a weak performance in it, and Burton is outstanding. Make time to see it if you can.