MPAA Rating: NR/Genre: Spy Thriller/Stars: Richard Burton, Claire Bloom, Oskar Werner, Sam Wanamaker, George Voskovec, Rupert Davies, Cyril Cusack, Peter van Eyck, Michael Hordern, Robert Hardy, Bernard Lee, Beatrix Lehmann, Esmond Knight, Tom Stern, Niall MacGinnis, Scott Finch, Anne Blake, George Mikell, Richard Marner, Warren Mitchell, Steve Plytas, Richard Caldicot, Nancy Nevinson, Michael Ripper/Runtime: 112 minutes
If there is one thing that I must admit I was perhaps a wee bit devastated to learn as I have gotten older it’s the fact that the reality of being a member of that distinct community known as secret agents/spies is sadly nothing like what I have seen in movies. Of course, I guess when you are someone like me who, since at least the age of 6-7, grew up on the various adventures of one 007 can you really blame me for thinking that a day in the life of a spy consisted of rocking a tux, wooing attractive women left and right, tangling with a seemingly never ending revolving door of megalomaniacal villains bent on world domination, and drinking enough shaken not stirred martinis that you could probably acquire an ownership stake in a gin company? Sadly, despite still enjoying those movies, I have now become aware that this profession is one that revolves more so around having to lie to everyone in your life, not letting people get too close personally, a fair bit of travel should the situation call for it, constantly having to look over your shoulder for the rest of your days, engaging in actions that are more than slightly morally/ethically dubious yet could impact the world in ways never imagined, and still finding time to enjoy the aforementioned copious amounts of alcoholic beverages. In other words: this is a far more depressing and gloomy position for one to consider pursuing in life though I suppose the ownership in a gin company could most assuredly still be an applicable post-retirement option. Yet, despite the fact that my eyes have been opened to this reality for some time, I must admit that this revelation has managed to tarnish my love for the spy genre of movie magic. Rather, it just has made me decide to seek out entries within that particular genre which are perhaps a bit more realistic to see if they too can be just as great, if not as immensely entertaining, as their more fanciful counterparts. It was with that objective in mind incidentally that made me seek out a film from 1965 that I had seen at one time in either a history or film class of mine from back in the day, and slice of cinema I happen to be reviewing for you today incidentally, known as The Spy Who Came in From the Cold. A film that, while I did enjoy the first time I saw it, I must say I have managed to gain a better appreciation for with the amount of time having come and gone since that first viewing. To be sure it’s not one for everyone, but with the aid of incredibly well-done work on both sides of the camera The Spy Who Came in From the Cold is one bleak and depressing yet undeniably riveting film that fans of the genre should try to check out at least once.
The plot is as follows: An adaptation of a 1963 novel of the same name by the legendary John le Carré, The Spy Who Came in From the Cold takes us back to the time and place of 1960s West Berlin during the height of that rather infamous period known as the Cold War. It is here where we meet a man by the name of Alec Leamas. A rumpled, fond of the bottle, and more than slightly world-weary sort who, among other things worth knowing about him as an individual, is the long-time main guy behind British Intelligence ops in the city (or a spy should you prefer to keep things relatively simple). As dedicated and devoted as Leamas is to his job however, it hasn’t exactly been one that has been easy by any stretch of the imagination especially when the top guy behind East German counter-espionage, a rather nefarious sort known as Mundt, keeps tracking down and “taking care” of any operatives that Leamas has been sending over to gather intel or whathaveyou. Something that we, along with Leamas, have to tragically witness as our story is getting underway courtesy of a man, later identified as one Karl Riemeck, being murdered just as he’s about to make it back to the West-occupied portion of Berlin courtesy of Checkpoint Charlie. As a result of this latest failure, we soon see as Leamas is asked to return to London by the head of that rather noteworthy British spy agency known as MI6 (or the Circus as it is often referred to) for a polite yet firm sit-down chat. It seems that MI6 is more than slightly concerned about how things have been going in Berlin and, when partnered up with how long our hero has been out in the field, the feeling by the head of MI6 (or Control as they call him) seems to be that Alec has been in the field to the point of burn-out and therefore maybe the time has come for him to “come in from the cold” (hence the title of the film) and take on a more low-key desk job. Of course, it shouldn’t be all that surprising to learn that this is one request that our hero adamantly denies so instead he is offered a different assignment that could also be seen as one final mission. One that sees him traveling over to East Germany acting as if he would like very much to defect, but instead is there to sow the seeds of that time-honored espionage crop known as disinformation in regards to the loyalty of none other than the elusive Mundt himself. Yet when unexpected twists begin to pop up in what was supposed to be a “simple assignment” to say nothing of both sides watching him like a hawk can our veteran spymaster do what needs to be done in order to accomplish his mission or is he about to be put on ice permanently? That is something I shall leave for you to discover….
Now, when looking at this slice of cinema from a behind the camera point of view, it should be said that the efforts engaged by the various units working there all, by and large, manage to be an absolute masterclass and then some in every sense of the word. Without any question, this starts with the work done in the director’s chair by Oscar-nominated Martin Ritt (1963’s Hud, 1961’s Paris Blues, and 1970’s The Molly Maguires among others) and this is definitely one of the crown jewels in the man’s more than slightly intriguing filmography. Indeed not only does Ritt do a fantastic job of more than effectively showcasing for audiences the paranoia and moral conundrums dealt with by the cast of characters caught up in the political schemes at the heart of the story in a manner that feels refreshingly and heartbreakingly honest, but he also excels immensely well at placing more of an emphasis on just how the various activities that are part of the espionage lifestyle can impact the person involved in them on an emotional and psychological level than might have been seen in other spy flicks at that time (Connery’s run as 007 definitely coming to mind here). Alongside the immensely skilled work done by Ritt at the helm, this slice of cinema is also the blessed recipient of an incredibly written screenplay as penned by Paul Dehn (who actually worked on the Connery Bond flick Goldfinger the year before this film came out) as well as Guy Trosper (1957’s Jailhouse Rock, 1952’s The Pride of St. Louis, and 1962’s Birdman of Alcatraz). To be sure, the plot can be a wee bit difficult for the casual movie goer to follow at times, but overall there is no denying that this is both an incredibly faithful adaptation of the source material as well as one that permits for both riveting performances and chilling atmosphere to shine in equal measure. In addition to the work done by the aforementioned departments, this slice of cinema also is the blessed recipient of absolutely gorgeous work by Oswald Morris (the 1972 take on Sleuth, 1978’s The Wiz, 1982’s The Dark Crystal) in the cinematography department. Indeed, by filming this in black and white, we see that Morris is able to showcase the depressing and bleak atmosphere on display in a manner that puts a vital focus on both how dour the world of espionage was at that time to say nothing of how morally uncertain the circumstances faced by our main character are. Last, but most assuredly not least by any stretch of the imagination this section would not be complete if I didn’t take some time to talk about the work done by composer Sol Kaplan (1979’s Over the Edge, 1963’s The Victors, and Judith from 1966) on this film’s musical accompaniment. Indeed through the utilization of such instruments as the piano and the occasional brass section, we see that Kaplan is able to give this slice of cinema a score that is just as appropriately grim, tense, and depressing as the story being told as well as the world that said story is set in to terrific effect. Suffice it to say that when you also take into account top-flight work from the editing department as headed by the undeniably talented editor (and eventual director in his own right) Anthony Harvey among others it’s clear that every single person working behind the camera here is operating near the pinnacle of their respective abilities with each of their distinct contributions proving to be a wonderful reminder of that and then some in the best way possible.
In addition to the truly riveting work done by the assorted groups operating behind the camera, it also most assuredly does not hurt this slice of cinema in the least that the work done by the genuinely impeccable cast of talent assembled in front of the camera is able to match up to that degree of quality beat for beat and then some in the best way possible even if most aren’t given a whole lot to work with in terms of narrative material. Without a doubt in my mind, this starts with the performance given here by screen legend Richard Burton (1978’s The Wild Geese, 1977’s Equus, and 1968’s Where Eagles Dare) and this is definitely a top-tier performance in a career that, the 2nd Exorcist and a few others aside, gave audiences more than its fair share of them. Indeed as Leamas, we see that Burton does a masterful job of giving us a character that is more than just a tad bit on the cynical and weary side. Not just from life, but from all that he has experienced during his time as an intelligence operative. At the same time though Burton is also phenomenal not just in showcasing for us the ever-rising degree of uncertainty faced by Leamas, but also in the presentation of the moral skirmish that emerges within him as he is very much divided in regards to what is being asked of him professionally as well as his dream to live a life that has more meaning to it than the one he has been beholden to for quite some time. Suffice it to say that it is a genuinely heartbreakingly great performance from one of the more underrated talents of his generation. Alongside the undeniably impressive turn here from Burton, this slice of cinema also provides us as movie goers with an equally as solid performance from Claire Bloom (1996’s Daylight, 2010’s The King’s Speech, the 1981 take on Clash of the Titans) as Nan Perry. Indeed Bloom does a remarkable job at providing us with a young woman who is a terrific mix of idealistic, sympathetic, and caring that not only gives the film the moral compass it so desperately needs, but also provides the character of Leamas with an opportunity to try and regain some of the humanity that he had long thought was lost for good. Last, but by no means least this section would be woefully lacking if I didn’t devote some time in it to talk about the vital support performance given by Cyril Cusack (1989’s My Left Foot, 1992’s Far and Away) in the pivotal role of “Control”. No it’s not the biggest role in the film, but even so there is no denying that Cusack gives the film a performance that acts as a wonderful personification of the authoritative complexities and moral ambiguities that can be vital components to the personalities that make up the higher-ups in the covert ops community. Suffice it to say that when you also take into top-flight efforts from such talents as Peter van Eyck who is ruthlessly good as Mundt, Bernard Lee (M in the first 11 007 cinematic outings), Rupert Davies (Waterloo from 1970, Frightmare from 1974, and 1971’s Zeppelin), Robert Hardy (Cornelius Fudge in the Harry Potter franchise), Sam Wanamaker (Superman IV: The Quest for Peace, 1986’s Raw Deal), and Warren Mitchell (1969’s The Assassination Bureau and 1977’s Jabberwocky) to name but a few it’s clear this slice of cinema might have a few distinct potholes along its path, but thankfully the remarkable performances given by this roster of talent most assuredly do what they can to help make this as smooth a cinematic voyage as possible.
All in all and at the end of the day is The Spy Who Came in From the Cold “65” a perfectly executed cinematic operation by any stretch of the imagination? Sadly, and as much love as I have for this particular genre of movie magic in mind, I am afraid that is not a claim that this slice of cinema is able to make though most assuredly not for lack of effort by any means on the part of either the cast or crew involved in the making of it. With that in mind however, does that make this the worst of the worst when it comes to either its respective genre to say nothing of amidst the individual filmographies of the creative individuals involved? Oh no. Definitely not. Not by a long shot. To be sure, this slice of cinema is not going to be one that checks off every single box on every movie viewer out there’s distinct list when it comes to finding a movie to watch. Not just because the plot can be more than a tad bit on the difficult side for some people to follow, the fact that this is very much a slow-burn kind of espionage tale, the other fact that this is one spy flick that is concerned more so with characters and atmosphere than car chases, fisticuffs, and gun battles, or even the final fact that the vast majority of characters (despite the more than capable efforts of the performers portraying them) are sadly not given nowhere near as much in terms of narrative material to work with as perhaps they should have been given. With that in mind there is also no denying that the work at the helm is taut, the cinematography is hauntingly elegant, the script is insightful and incredibly written, the soundtrack is bleak yet beautiful, and the performances (with particular regard to the ones provided by Burton, Bloom, Eyck, and Cusack) are all solid no matter how much or little screentime and material they are given to work with. Suffice it to say then dear reader that it might not be for all of you out there, but for those who are willing to give it a fair shake of the stick then I promise you that The Spy Who Came in From the Cold “65” is a bleak, depressing, and yet more than certainly gripping look not only at the question of if there is truly any morality to be found in that time-honored game known as espionage, but also at the impact that a lifetime spent in the shadows can have on an individual both emotionally and psychologically as well. Make of that what thou will dear reader! On a scale of 1-5 I give The Spy Who Came in From the Cold “65” a solid 4 out of 5.
