Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011)

Some movies are about characters and stories. Others are just about moments. The latter is the case with Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, the new film from Let the Right One In director Tomas Alfredson. When analyzed on a script level, the film is admittedly less than fulfilling. Here is a standard “find the mole” plot that those of us who watched 24 have seen countless times before, and the ultimate resolution won’t exactly have people screaming in shock. The film is far more fascinating as a piece of world-building and immersion; the film so perfectly captures its time and place that if you told me it was made in the ’70s I might have believed you. It’s certainly an unromantic take on the spy thriller—most of the movie focuses more on old white men in smoky rooms than on agents in the field—but Alfredson and his cast create a gripping and chilly little story about a world where everybody seems to be hiding something from somebody.

Gary Oldman is understated but just about perfect George Smiley, an experienced MI6 officer (here referred to as “The Circus”) who is forced to retire along with John Hurt in the wake of an intelligence disaster in Hungary. When it is suspected that one of Smiley’s former coworkers is a mole for the Soviets, it becomes his job to try and identify the traitor. The possible moles are played by Toby Jones, Colin Firth, Ciarán Hinds and David Dencik. Joining Smiley in the investigation is the young Peter Guillam (Benedict “The British-est Name Ever” Cumberbatch), and agent Ricky Tarr (Tom Hardy) also eventually becomes a factor.

None of the characters in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy are hotshots. All of them seem appropriately weathered and disillusioned with their profession, yet they still have a devotion to their work. You could mistake the offices of The Circus with just about any office building, and the way the characters talk to each other you’d hardly know that they were responsible for all of British intelligence. To them, it’s just their job, and they go about it in the same way that just about anyone would their profession. Nothing surprises them anymore, and they are all equally ruthless when it comes to getting the job done. In the minds of those in The Circus, the ends always justify the means.

The film as a whole is more or less a prolonged attempt at sustaining this unemotional and unflinching tone. It just about always pays off. One of the most remarkable aspects of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is the very old-fashioned visual style employed by Alfredson and his cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema. It could easily feel forced, but in the film’s cloudy and smoke-filled universe, the grainy style feels right at home. (It only feels slightly awkward when Alfredson employs a select few CGI effects, but I suppose that couldn’t be helped.) Normally in period films like this, the costume and production design overdo it as if to make sure that you always remember that it is the ’70s. At times in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, the time period becomes irrelevant. You are so absorbed in the moment that nothing else matters. That’s how it’s supposed to be.

The film unmistakably places atmosphere above all else, but it’s effective and that’s all that matters. Alfredson is very deliberate with his shots; he prefers to let the audience ponder what they’re seeing rather than force a million images down their throats. While this film is a thing of beauty, very little is beautiful about it. Sunny days are a rarity, many of the rooms are dimly lit, and you’ll be hard-pressed to get a smile out of any of these characters. Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is all business, and as a result whenever we see a character show a little bit of emotion, it comes as a wonderful shock. The film plays many of the most heartbreaking moments right down the middle, but that just makes them all the more effective. Sometimes, the most powerful emotions are the ones that the film keeps from us.

It’s always refreshing to see a movie that commits to showing rather than telling. It is so much easier to explain things away in a line of dialogue. It is hard to convey information entirely through the use of visuals and performances. Oldman’s performance as Smiley is a perfect indication of this. For scenes at a time, Oldman will say absolutely nothing. But he says it all with the stoic look on his face and the way he seems to absorb everything that is going on around him. He is quite clearly good at his job, and that’s because he always seems to be watching and thinking about his next move. Alfredson lets the audience watch along with him. This is exemplified in an opening scene featuring Mark Strong’s Jim Prideaux. As he sits peacefully at a table, there are several aspects to his environment that would suggest that something is amiss. In a lesser film, he would have said “something’s wrong.” Instead, we get a series of long, ponderous shots that let the audience put two and two together. When the climax ultimately comes, the result—like the rest of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy—is far less glamorous than other movies might have you believe.

Grade: A-