Alec Guinness and Gary Oldman both played George Smiley ('Beggarman') in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy' in 1979 and 2011, respectively.
I guess the only easy thing about this review is that I love Guinness and Oldman on just about the same level as actors, so no accusation of partiality can be directed at my way. The former for the gravitas and intelligent bent he gives and moulds into each and every one of his characters; the latter for his chameleonic abilities through various array of accents and guises. Which is something Guinness does incredibly well too, in the likes of ‘Kind Hearts and Coronets’, and his take on the caricatured portrayal of Fagin in ‘Oliver Twist’ and moulding him into a realistic man of the period, it’s just that he’s not as overt about it. But then again Oldman has had his fair share of downplayed performances too, like in ‘JFK’ and ‘The Dark Knight’. I could go on and on like this but I think you get my drift. Both are great actors, and why compare greatness?
I will, however, go on to compare their distinctly different approaches and yet, not entirely dissimilar execution, of George Smiley, and trust me, this has not been an easy task, at all. I suppose before going on further in my review I should mention some of the other actors who’ve played Smiley. Rupert Davies played Smiley in the 1965 adaptation of ‘Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy’. Though Smiley actually has a very significant role in the central machinations of the plot, he doesn’t have many scenes in the novel or film and is very much a supporting character. ‘The Spy Who Came in From the Cold’ is Alec Leamas’ story, and Richard Burton’s show, and Smiley isn’t even the most significant supporting character, as Oskar Werner’s excellent performance as Fieldler, Claire Bloom’s heartbreaking turn as Liz and even Cyril Cusack as Control, are given far more time to shine. I will give Davies credit for adding to the tapestry of the film as this rather odd, plump ‘kindly worried man’ as the book describes, not quite as downtrodden emotionally and physically as the Smiley of later novels, but already having that streak of pragmatic professionalism underneath. He does not have much to work with but does a lot with what he has, and I’d give him a strong 3, verging on a 3.5. James Mason, in ‘The Deadly Affair’ an adaptation of ‘Call for the Dead’, plays Charles Dobbs who really is just a renamed George Smiley. I found this a bit distracting throughout, but Mason’s performance itself is very good, a pretty emotionally charged take on Smiley that’s actually quite effective, the film itself is alright but Mason is great, and I have no hesitations in giving him a solid 4.5. I have not seen Denholm Elliot’s portrayal yet, he’s not really the first person who comes to mind when you think ‘George Smiley’, but hey that’s what most people thought about Oldman before the 2011 adaptation came out.
I think the best starting point in discussing both performances is perhaps in the more similar attributes both men bring to Smiley. This George Smiley is a particularly disillusioned one; if you’ve ever read the likes of ‘The Spy Who Came in From the Cold’ and ‘Call for the Dead’, and of course are aware of the circumstances mitigating the main plot in ‘Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy’, you’ll be expecting both Guinness and Oldman to convey a whole history of disenchantment, retiring coldness and bitter failures in their character creations. Both pull this off flawlessly. Oldman immediately nullifies any complaints by naysayers saying that an actor known mostly for broad and sometimes hammy performances could not possibly disappear into the retired, restrained George Smile by his whole conception of the character. Oldman brilliantly conveys the sort of contentment with discontent Smiley has with that relaxation within rigidity he brings to every movement he makes. The way he sits, the way he talks, all seem so at ease with the supreme quietude of the character. It’s incredible how Oldman, who’s probably best known for his incredibly OTT ‘EVVVVVVEERRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYONE’ in ‘Leon’, can play someone who would never in a hundred years dare raise his voice to that level. Yet alongside it Oldman makes sure that we never forget Smiley’s qualities of espionage to his character. Despite negating him to a near non-entity in the way Smiley presents himself, Oldman brings such a presence to that piercing gaze of him, and just the general air of Smiley that shows that while you may have overlooked him due to his reserve, don’t underestimate his intelligence.
Guinness too makes Smiley into a very quiet, reserved character, but the masterstroke of his portrayal is that he makes this understated quality of his rather off-putting. Oldman did very well to show that Smiley’s reserve was more of a result of him trying to disguise his emotions, and as a result gaining more insight into others, and I think it’s fortunate that he did not try to ape Guinness’ approach, which is to emphasize the distinctly anti-social, somewhat sociopathic, tendencies of Smiley. The Atlantic’s James Parker described Guinness’ portrayal of Smiley as moving ‘as if he were wearing three overcoats’. It’s a great way of describing Guinness’ physical performance as Smiley; the ‘profession of forgetting’ he speaks of with Guillam shows that Smiley is always conscious of keeping a distance between himself and the past, and indications of the past within the present. He walks, talks and interrogates with a sort of opaque disregard and even disgust for the world. Also, whereas Oldman makes Smiley cold but not entirely unapproachable, a man you could see interacting with others normally and having a social life, if not a particularly vibrant one, Guinness turns him into a man so consumed with paranoia and disillusionment that he can’t even abide an old friend taking him out to dinner, and only allows it ‘for politeness’ sake’; and in fact has to put on a façade to even talk with others.
I won’t say whose approach is better than the others since they work equally well not only in establishing who Smiley is, but also the dynamic he has with others. With Guinness it just makes sense that he’s so much more at home, though still retaining that cold world-weariness and disappointment with the Circus that seeps through frequently and yet so understatedly. I love how he contrasts Smiley’s conversations with Roddy Martindale with that between Guillam and Lacon, being more comfortable with the latter than the former, but always keeping the same sort of striking interrogatory attitude to both. Guinness is always on an edge with his performance yet it’s so wonderfully, subtly done that it’s almost unnoticeable, which is exactly the quality a spy should have. Oldman I will say, as per the film lacks as much time to develop this differentiated approach to interactions, but it is rather incredible that he still manages to show that incisive yet not altogether unpleasant way his Smiley has with people around him. I found myself quite liking his George Smiley and warming to him rather quickly, which is not the case with Guinness, although of course that is not to besmirch either performance, they work incredibly well in establishing both versions of Smiley in their own distinct, different ways.
I’ve already examined the very specific interactions Oldman and Guinness share with the different characters in the Circus and outside it, so I won’t say too much more on that, but I will say that far from making Smiley a mere facilitator for other characters which is always a potential pitfall of such roles, both Guinness and Oldman splendidly keep Smiley both consistent and yet fascinating, both investigators of enigmas and yet enigmas in themselves. Guinness’ best dynamic I would say is with Bernard Hepton and Ian Richardson, unsurprisingly as they also give two of the best performances on display, with Richardson in particular I like how he shows his weakness and feelings of insecurity, as well as a certain anger towards him over his unfaithful wife. Oldman, in my opinion, shares some of his best scenes with Benedict Cumberbatch as the two have such an incredibly strange chemistry that somehow works, a sort of subversion of the buddy cop routine that’s quite humorous in a way, and yet also accentuates the spy’s background very well. There’s another scene involving the two that I’ll get into in a bit…anyway it’s an incredible challenge to make a character who’s effectively a social non-entity into a compelling figure for other characters to interact with, but Oldman and Guinness go even further beyond this call of duty by elevating some of the lesser performances into effectiveness. Hywel Bennett and David Dencick’s are underwhelming in their major scenes, but what really makes those scenes work in their respective productions is Smiley cutting them down to size, the slow-burning intensity of Guinness and the cool forcefulness of Oldman making the scenes of interrogation all the more effective.
With the constancy of Smiley as a cold, seemingly unfeeling character, I think the moments in which hints of emotions seep through are rendered all the more powerful, but also have the potential to go awry if not in character. Guinness gives subtle indications of these seeping emotions throughout; from his frustrations over the ‘game of leaks’ the Circus has become, I particularly love his scene with Jerry Westerby where he breaks his ‘false’ sociable but cold manner to show these emotions seeping out. The scene with him and Guillam chatting over dinner is similarly fascinating because Guinness almost seems to loosen up at points, bringing a sort of warmth into his performance, only to coldly subvert it by bringing in indications of his constant vigilance. Guinness’ portrayal is always on an edge while Oldman’s is more deceptively relaxed, bar some select scenes. One where he finds out he was on Control’s list of potential moles; ever so briefly you catch a glimpse of a betrayed expression on his face that is just hearbreaking. And of course, the scene I believe got Oldman the Oscar nomination, his monologue abou meeting his nemisis Karla.
In the 1979 production, the scenario involving Karla and Smiley’s interaction was handled in flashback; Guinness handles this scene incredibly well by showing a former Smiley who perhaps was more self-assured, expressing the quiet ruthlessness of the man very well as he attempts to convince Karla to defect to the West. People have often said Patrick Stewart dominates this scene with his silent performance, I agree to an extent, but I do think it is Guinness who makes both performances work by showing small indications of fallibilities in Smiley that Karla would’ve picked out. Oldman, on the other hand, gets a whole scene to himself, and he too is marvelous. The way he delivers ‘we are not so different, you and I’ is particularly unforgettable due to the haunted pathos Oldman brings to the words; indeed, the main arc of both performances evoke this sense of haunting remembrance incredibly well. Guinness through the flashbacks which show him watching helplessly as Control and the Cirucs crumble down around him, laying seeds for his underlying determination in the present to win the game. Oldman more gently shows a hurt, provoked man rising to the challenges set to him by the present, and his past failures that works incredibly well too.
Both performances enter their final moments marvelously, many of which I’ve already mentioned in thorough detail in the other reviews; Guinness I will say gets far more of an opportunity to show George exacting his true calculating colours in nabbing the mole, and he’s marvelous particularly in the scenes where he quite calmly but with the right sort of righteous conviction, deals with the fallout, but Oldman is no slouch in conveying the same sort of forcefulness with often silent reactions. His final one as he (spoilers) sits at the head of the Circus, preparing to assert control of it, is incredibly satisfying and well-earnt with Oldman’s sympathetic performance. Guinness on the other hand ends it on a bit of a sour note—and by that I mean a brilliant sour note. Meeting up with his wife Ann, we get to see George Smiley not only as the cool, assured spy but also for the deeply inadequate man he is—Sinead Cusack is incredibly good in this scene as well, but Guinness really makes a tremendous final impression with his revelation of a man to whom ‘life’s such a puzzle’; the indignant confusion he ends his performance on may be a bit disconcerting but it is also works wonderfully well with the bleakness of the story, and for that I will by the smallest of margins give Guinness the victory. Oldman is gre in painting a portrait of a disillusioned but still humane Smiley who controls his emotions in order to pursue a case, but I do confess that I do prefer, ever so slightly, Guinness’ rounded, opaque portrayal of a shell of a man struggling to comprehend the world around him, and resorting to espionage to deal with inner demons.
1. Guinness (5/5)
2. Oldman (5/5)
I will, however, go on to compare their distinctly different approaches and yet, not entirely dissimilar execution, of George Smiley, and trust me, this has not been an easy task, at all. I suppose before going on further in my review I should mention some of the other actors who’ve played Smiley. Rupert Davies played Smiley in the 1965 adaptation of ‘Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy’. Though Smiley actually has a very significant role in the central machinations of the plot, he doesn’t have many scenes in the novel or film and is very much a supporting character. ‘The Spy Who Came in From the Cold’ is Alec Leamas’ story, and Richard Burton’s show, and Smiley isn’t even the most significant supporting character, as Oskar Werner’s excellent performance as Fieldler, Claire Bloom’s heartbreaking turn as Liz and even Cyril Cusack as Control, are given far more time to shine. I will give Davies credit for adding to the tapestry of the film as this rather odd, plump ‘kindly worried man’ as the book describes, not quite as downtrodden emotionally and physically as the Smiley of later novels, but already having that streak of pragmatic professionalism underneath. He does not have much to work with but does a lot with what he has, and I’d give him a strong 3, verging on a 3.5. James Mason, in ‘The Deadly Affair’ an adaptation of ‘Call for the Dead’, plays Charles Dobbs who really is just a renamed George Smiley. I found this a bit distracting throughout, but Mason’s performance itself is very good, a pretty emotionally charged take on Smiley that’s actually quite effective, the film itself is alright but Mason is great, and I have no hesitations in giving him a solid 4.5. I have not seen Denholm Elliot’s portrayal yet, he’s not really the first person who comes to mind when you think ‘George Smiley’, but hey that’s what most people thought about Oldman before the 2011 adaptation came out.
I think the best starting point in discussing both performances is perhaps in the more similar attributes both men bring to Smiley. This George Smiley is a particularly disillusioned one; if you’ve ever read the likes of ‘The Spy Who Came in From the Cold’ and ‘Call for the Dead’, and of course are aware of the circumstances mitigating the main plot in ‘Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy’, you’ll be expecting both Guinness and Oldman to convey a whole history of disenchantment, retiring coldness and bitter failures in their character creations. Both pull this off flawlessly. Oldman immediately nullifies any complaints by naysayers saying that an actor known mostly for broad and sometimes hammy performances could not possibly disappear into the retired, restrained George Smile by his whole conception of the character. Oldman brilliantly conveys the sort of contentment with discontent Smiley has with that relaxation within rigidity he brings to every movement he makes. The way he sits, the way he talks, all seem so at ease with the supreme quietude of the character. It’s incredible how Oldman, who’s probably best known for his incredibly OTT ‘EVVVVVVEERRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYONE’ in ‘Leon’, can play someone who would never in a hundred years dare raise his voice to that level. Yet alongside it Oldman makes sure that we never forget Smiley’s qualities of espionage to his character. Despite negating him to a near non-entity in the way Smiley presents himself, Oldman brings such a presence to that piercing gaze of him, and just the general air of Smiley that shows that while you may have overlooked him due to his reserve, don’t underestimate his intelligence.
Guinness too makes Smiley into a very quiet, reserved character, but the masterstroke of his portrayal is that he makes this understated quality of his rather off-putting. Oldman did very well to show that Smiley’s reserve was more of a result of him trying to disguise his emotions, and as a result gaining more insight into others, and I think it’s fortunate that he did not try to ape Guinness’ approach, which is to emphasize the distinctly anti-social, somewhat sociopathic, tendencies of Smiley. The Atlantic’s James Parker described Guinness’ portrayal of Smiley as moving ‘as if he were wearing three overcoats’. It’s a great way of describing Guinness’ physical performance as Smiley; the ‘profession of forgetting’ he speaks of with Guillam shows that Smiley is always conscious of keeping a distance between himself and the past, and indications of the past within the present. He walks, talks and interrogates with a sort of opaque disregard and even disgust for the world. Also, whereas Oldman makes Smiley cold but not entirely unapproachable, a man you could see interacting with others normally and having a social life, if not a particularly vibrant one, Guinness turns him into a man so consumed with paranoia and disillusionment that he can’t even abide an old friend taking him out to dinner, and only allows it ‘for politeness’ sake’; and in fact has to put on a façade to even talk with others.
I won’t say whose approach is better than the others since they work equally well not only in establishing who Smiley is, but also the dynamic he has with others. With Guinness it just makes sense that he’s so much more at home, though still retaining that cold world-weariness and disappointment with the Circus that seeps through frequently and yet so understatedly. I love how he contrasts Smiley’s conversations with Roddy Martindale with that between Guillam and Lacon, being more comfortable with the latter than the former, but always keeping the same sort of striking interrogatory attitude to both. Guinness is always on an edge with his performance yet it’s so wonderfully, subtly done that it’s almost unnoticeable, which is exactly the quality a spy should have. Oldman I will say, as per the film lacks as much time to develop this differentiated approach to interactions, but it is rather incredible that he still manages to show that incisive yet not altogether unpleasant way his Smiley has with people around him. I found myself quite liking his George Smiley and warming to him rather quickly, which is not the case with Guinness, although of course that is not to besmirch either performance, they work incredibly well in establishing both versions of Smiley in their own distinct, different ways.
I’ve already examined the very specific interactions Oldman and Guinness share with the different characters in the Circus and outside it, so I won’t say too much more on that, but I will say that far from making Smiley a mere facilitator for other characters which is always a potential pitfall of such roles, both Guinness and Oldman splendidly keep Smiley both consistent and yet fascinating, both investigators of enigmas and yet enigmas in themselves. Guinness’ best dynamic I would say is with Bernard Hepton and Ian Richardson, unsurprisingly as they also give two of the best performances on display, with Richardson in particular I like how he shows his weakness and feelings of insecurity, as well as a certain anger towards him over his unfaithful wife. Oldman, in my opinion, shares some of his best scenes with Benedict Cumberbatch as the two have such an incredibly strange chemistry that somehow works, a sort of subversion of the buddy cop routine that’s quite humorous in a way, and yet also accentuates the spy’s background very well. There’s another scene involving the two that I’ll get into in a bit…anyway it’s an incredible challenge to make a character who’s effectively a social non-entity into a compelling figure for other characters to interact with, but Oldman and Guinness go even further beyond this call of duty by elevating some of the lesser performances into effectiveness. Hywel Bennett and David Dencick’s are underwhelming in their major scenes, but what really makes those scenes work in their respective productions is Smiley cutting them down to size, the slow-burning intensity of Guinness and the cool forcefulness of Oldman making the scenes of interrogation all the more effective.
With the constancy of Smiley as a cold, seemingly unfeeling character, I think the moments in which hints of emotions seep through are rendered all the more powerful, but also have the potential to go awry if not in character. Guinness gives subtle indications of these seeping emotions throughout; from his frustrations over the ‘game of leaks’ the Circus has become, I particularly love his scene with Jerry Westerby where he breaks his ‘false’ sociable but cold manner to show these emotions seeping out. The scene with him and Guillam chatting over dinner is similarly fascinating because Guinness almost seems to loosen up at points, bringing a sort of warmth into his performance, only to coldly subvert it by bringing in indications of his constant vigilance. Guinness’ portrayal is always on an edge while Oldman’s is more deceptively relaxed, bar some select scenes. One where he finds out he was on Control’s list of potential moles; ever so briefly you catch a glimpse of a betrayed expression on his face that is just hearbreaking. And of course, the scene I believe got Oldman the Oscar nomination, his monologue abou meeting his nemisis Karla.
In the 1979 production, the scenario involving Karla and Smiley’s interaction was handled in flashback; Guinness handles this scene incredibly well by showing a former Smiley who perhaps was more self-assured, expressing the quiet ruthlessness of the man very well as he attempts to convince Karla to defect to the West. People have often said Patrick Stewart dominates this scene with his silent performance, I agree to an extent, but I do think it is Guinness who makes both performances work by showing small indications of fallibilities in Smiley that Karla would’ve picked out. Oldman, on the other hand, gets a whole scene to himself, and he too is marvelous. The way he delivers ‘we are not so different, you and I’ is particularly unforgettable due to the haunted pathos Oldman brings to the words; indeed, the main arc of both performances evoke this sense of haunting remembrance incredibly well. Guinness through the flashbacks which show him watching helplessly as Control and the Cirucs crumble down around him, laying seeds for his underlying determination in the present to win the game. Oldman more gently shows a hurt, provoked man rising to the challenges set to him by the present, and his past failures that works incredibly well too.
Both performances enter their final moments marvelously, many of which I’ve already mentioned in thorough detail in the other reviews; Guinness I will say gets far more of an opportunity to show George exacting his true calculating colours in nabbing the mole, and he’s marvelous particularly in the scenes where he quite calmly but with the right sort of righteous conviction, deals with the fallout, but Oldman is no slouch in conveying the same sort of forcefulness with often silent reactions. His final one as he (spoilers) sits at the head of the Circus, preparing to assert control of it, is incredibly satisfying and well-earnt with Oldman’s sympathetic performance. Guinness on the other hand ends it on a bit of a sour note—and by that I mean a brilliant sour note. Meeting up with his wife Ann, we get to see George Smiley not only as the cool, assured spy but also for the deeply inadequate man he is—Sinead Cusack is incredibly good in this scene as well, but Guinness really makes a tremendous final impression with his revelation of a man to whom ‘life’s such a puzzle’; the indignant confusion he ends his performance on may be a bit disconcerting but it is also works wonderfully well with the bleakness of the story, and for that I will by the smallest of margins give Guinness the victory. Oldman is gre in painting a portrait of a disillusioned but still humane Smiley who controls his emotions in order to pursue a case, but I do confess that I do prefer, ever so slightly, Guinness’ rounded, opaque portrayal of a shell of a man struggling to comprehend the world around him, and resorting to espionage to deal with inner demons.
1. Guinness (5/5)
2. Oldman (5/5)
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