Wednesday 24 June 2015

Head-to-Head: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, 1979/2011. 'Beggarman' (Alec Guinness v.s. Gary Oldman)

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)

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Wednesday 17 June 2015

Head-to-Head: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, 1979/2011. Tinker (Michael Aldridge v.s. Toby Jones), Tailor (Ian Richardson v.s. Colin Firth), Soldier (Terrence Rigby v.s. Ciarán Hinds), Poorman (Bernard Hepton v.s. David Dencik)

**SPOILERS** **SPOILERS**


I supposed before I get into each of the performances of the Circus individually, that I'd look at how brilliantly each of the members of the Circus are introduced in the 1979 miniseries. It's brief, but that opening scene with them each walking into the room, silently, yet showing so much about their respective characters, is quite great really. Bernard Hepton's Toby Esterhase arriving with tail between legs, eager to please like a little puppy, keen beyond his ability, perhaps. Michael Aldridge's Percy Alleline struts in with all the sheer pomposity of a natural born (or so he'd like to think) leader, pipe in hand and with such an air of pretension about him. Ian Richardson's Bill Haydon playfully tiptoeing in, tea and biscuits in hand, looking more at ease than anyone else in the room; and the chain-smoking Roy Bland (Terrence Rigby) who seems like he'd rather be anywhere than here. The 2011 version does not really have an equivalent scene and to an extent, suffers for it. 

Michael Aldridge and Toby Jones both played Percy Alleline ('Tinker') in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy' in 1979 and 2011, respectively. 

Despite having distinctly more screen-time and material, however, I don't feel that Michael Aldridge makes that much of an impression as Percy Alleline. Oh, he's certainly servicable, and emphasises the ambition of old Percy just about well enough, but unfortunately his performance always feels a bit lacking, a bit too consistent. He's actually rather good in showing Percy to have that big bluff manner about him that verges upon bullying, working well with his wide frame to make for an intimidating enough figure who puts fear and obedience into the hearts and likes of Toby Esterhase, but I never really got the sense of that inner calculation that Toby Jones brings to the role--although to what extent is Alleline really a master strategist? One of the more underrated character actors of recent years, Jones brings his usual brand of slimy pompousness to the role, as well as a bit of that old-fashioned charm he has in most of his roles. 

Both Aldridge and Jones are aware that Percy's not by any stretch of the imagination a villain, and I think Aldridge does well enough with this by laying some seeds of weakness and insecurity within his performance to emphasise that yes, perhaps Percy isn't all he's cracked up to be. My only reservation with this though is that his confrontations with Smiley and Control don't have the same sort of frisson that Jone's elicits in the 2011 adaptation with that subtle yet pretty effective way of slipping beneath Hurt and Oldman's defences and making a rather big spectacle of it. Jones always has a sort of underlying intelligence to most of his roles, and this performance actually evoked some memory of his pretty good performance as Truman Capote in the unfortunately neglected 'Infamous'. Aldridge is smarmy and sure of himself to overcompensate for any lacking attributes, but I just don't think he brings enough aggression to the role that Percy needs to combat the passive-aggressiveness of Control and Smiley. I will say that both performances are to an extent shortchanged by their lack of 'big scenes', so to speak; particularly Jones, who is pretty limited so far as screentime is concerned. Nevertheless I do think Jones manages to make Alleline into a pretty memorable character, overall, nothing earth-shattering but certainly effective, while Aldridge is for the most part servicable, he's lacking in some respects but actually quite good in his final scene as he begins to deal with the fallout of his actions, unfortunately it is kind of cut short by the arcs of other characters.

Jones: 3.5
Aldridge: 3

Ian Richardson and Colin Firth both played Bill Haydon ('Tailor') in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy' in 1979 and 2011, respectively.

If you haven't already been warned off by that HUGE label above, then turn away now, but to really get into both performances I will have to bring into discussion that SPOILERS Bill Haydon is the mole within the Circus, leaking information to the Soviets. This sort of role, the 'who' behind the 'whodunnit', is probably the trickiest of all performances to pull off, since it requires the actor to both in some way (s) allude to the truth, so as the make the eventual reveal not out-of-the-blue, yet he or she also has to maintain that facade of innocence but not laying it on too thick, and remain engaging and approachable as a character without being too obvious. It takes careful, precise writing and acting to craft out just the right balance of ambiguity and fact within such a character, and more often than not it fails, which leads many films and novels to 'cop out' by usually placing the blame of the crime on, say, the most obvious perpetrator, or some random mook, or some strange metaphysical occurrence, etc. I will note that many of my favourite mystery films hold a special place in my heart in large part, due to their handling of characters of the akin: 'Stalag 17', 'Laura', 'In the Heat of the Night', 'The Prestige'.

And of course, 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy'. And via re-watches in vein of my above criteria, one performance that has come under serious scrutiny and re-evaluation by me is Colin Firth's 'turn' as Bill Haydon. Well the first time I watched the film I thought Firth did a good enough job of playing the cheeky, very British, a convincing enough spy and I held my reservation of him being too obvious a suspect due to a fact that an A-lister playing a supporting role usually gives the game away. Upon re-watch, some of that old charm really wore on me, and I began to see cracks in his performance that I believe were not wholly intentional, and really lessens a lot of the initial impact I had to the reveal of who the Soviet mole was. A multi-layered approach to the character of Haydon is necessary, but also requires the actor to mend these different sides and also, to not give the game away. Well Firth I feel gives the game away, way too early, just the way he postures himself in those Circus meetings, almost too defensive of his actions to push Control and Smiley out, sure the way those scenes were written it is kind of obvious that Haydon's got something to hide. Still, Firth could have played those notes much more quietly. It's not that he's bad in these sort of scenes really, but I have to say that upon re-watch of both versions, quite frankly, he can't hold a candle to Ian Richardson's portrayal.

Richardson was a great actor; I haven't seen as much of him as I'd have liked to but having just begun the UK series of 'House of Cards' I must say, he was an incredibly underrated and terrific screen presence who just exudes presence without even saying a single word. That mellifluous, distinctively smooth speaking voice and accent of his, alongside with his unconventionally refined and intrinsically mysterious appearance actually reminds me most of all of another famous actor who's landmark role was in another landmark mystery film, Clifton Webb, and 'Laura'. The physical resemblance is quite uncanny, but even more so the excellence with which they go about setting up their characters as men not solely defined with their complicity, and yet amidst all the different flavours of their portrayal, an underlying merging factor of what makes them the 'who' in the 'whodunnit'. I'm afraid I can no longer be lenient on Firth being too obvious a mole solely because of his A-lister status, because in the same sense, Richardson and Webb were the most well-known of the potential culprits in their respective films as well, and yet not once do they give the game away.

As Bill Haydon, Richardson is simply pitch-perfect from his very first appearances. Limited though they are, he so eloquently evokes the very precise, classy manner of Haydon through his movements and voice, always as if he's on a different plateau to all the other members in influence and intellect, a true fatherly figure; and yet also with a more earthy undertone to it that suggests a certain cynicism with his job, and the lesser men performing duties around him. Firth, in his interactions with Cumberbatch's Guillam is perhaps a bit too forceful, too obviously showing that he and the Circus have something to hide and arousing our suspicions immediately, but Richardson is darned perfect in alternating between patronizing Guillam as a 'pariah', to quietly giggling in an admiring manner at Peter taking the piss out of his fellow Circus officials. Richardson strings along these various faces of Haydon in such an effortless manner that makes sense entirely in accordance with his playful interpretation of Bill as a man who does his job well, but doesn't take it too seriously. Firth, I guess, takes a different approach that is far more stiff and professional in his manner of speaking, he shows a certain displeasure to the ways of Percy Alleline and his 'little cabaret', and is good enough in showing that Haydon really does not have time for the conniving toadying of the likes of Alleline and Esterhase. However, I do feel his delivery of 'why don't you fuck off to his majesty' a bit too overt a line of dialogue and delivery, almost like the film is trying to make too much of a statement about Haydon being a bit of an odd one out in the Circus. What Richardson does brilliantly is leave many of these quirks of Richardson unsaid, yet conveys it so well through his performance, and makes them not only entertaining to watch, but also quite endearing, in the sense that the audience, getting to know Bill Haydon a bit better, is more inclined to like him, despite some of his less than savory qualities.

Of these qualities, most notable perhaps is Haydon's condescension, particularly to George Smiley. Firth goes for the safer route of making mountains out of molehills, he definitely overplays a fair few moments when he's acting like a complete dick to Smiley, no reservations involved, it works well, but mostly because of Oldman's mostly silent reactions. Richardson and Guinness, on the other hand, share something that is absolutely brilliant, the most perfect anti-chemistry I have ever seen onscreen. This may sound like sarcastic praise but abide with me. The crux of the relationship between the two characters is Haydon's past affair with Smiley's wife, Ann. Despite the miniseries never actually showing any of the affair, nor Guinness' reactions at the time to it, both actors are absolutely flawless in showing the history of their troubled relationship. Richardson's aloof manner of wandering by the way is intertwined with a rather uncanny awareness and bluntness he brings to the sly humour he has in his interactions with Guinness' Smiley, really bringing the flair to the 'classy bunch' he remembers them to be part of. I have heard some minor reservations by some people that Richardson was not 'sexy' enough to play Haydon, but I don't think that's the point of the affair at all; he exudes this sort of quiet, incredibly compelling allure over the audience instead of Firth's usual charming routine (which I must note, does work, I guess, in the sense that you can imagine Ann faaaaawning over Mr Darcy and his wet t-shirt contests), and I think that alone helps to already establish his sovereignty over George, his emasculation of him.

With Jim Prideaux, Firth's performance is strongly aided by the strength of his (and indeed, Strong's) contrasting approaches that merge quite nicely into that single look they share near the film's conclusion, but I do think that due to the limitations of the film's running time the friendship is given the right amount of power, but nothing more. We only catch brief glimpses of Firth here and there throughout the film and I must say, he always looks like he's up to something; whereas Richard, on the other hand, in the flashbacks and present scenes, is decidedly more casual and therefore more effective in showing how routine the character's handling of espoinage affairs is, up till the point he has to deal with his good friend's imprisonment by the Soviets. I would say that Richardson, though downplaying the strength of companionship between the two at this point, is equally effective as Firth in showing the history between the two men, as he drops his usual facade of indolence and becomes altogether more serious and irritable, a fascinating display of an enigmatic yet approachable man stripping down layers and yet still remaining distant. All these little scenes for both versions, lead up to the final reveal that Bill Haydon is the mole. Firth's reveal scene I must confess is a little underwhelming in the way it is handled, I will give him credit for handling it well enough to make it resonate with the viewer, but it really does pale in comparison to Richardson who is absolutely brilliant in his almost silent resignation, but still with that certain degree of arrogance within himself as he tries not to outwit, but to continue to play mind games even when, nose bleeding and utterly defeated, he is truly at wit's end.

The final few scenes of Bill Haydon are what really makes or breaks the performance, and I will say that Firth, while imperfect in his approach, does manage to make a certain impact by his more directly emotional portrayal of a man suffering from the weight of rerality, and the repercussions of his actions, and actually does manage to make me feel sorry for Bill Haydon to an extent. I think he kind of overdoes the line 'I'm not (Karla's) bloody office boy!', but makes up for it with his assertion that he's 'someone who's made his mark'. Firth is good enough I suppose in showing the man's pride in his work and shame at his failure, but really it's nothing compared to Richardson's amazing scenes, some of the best acted I have ever seen in any film/miniseries/television show/play...anywhere. Coming under Smiley's relentless questioning, Richardson bursting out into laughter and tears about his actions being a 'necessary' evils, and his disillusionment with the Circus that led to his defection to the enemy, is simply heartbreaking without compromising the 'villainy' (if it can be called as such) of Haydon's actions. Simply put, it's probably the greatest portrayal I've ever seen of an emotional breakdown into nothingness that really shows how hollow an existence Haydon has led ever since he betrayed his principles for the sake of what he sees, as the greater good. When he discusses the machinations of he and Karla's plans to deceive Smiley through an affair with the latter's wife, you don't feel hate for his deviousness as the wit he displays seems so emptied of emotion and vigour, retaining the intelligence of the man but without his former spirit.

Watching Richardson slowly break down the defences of this enigmatic man into someone more truthful, more understandable and yet so painful to watch is an incredible achievement as we watch his final moments of tying loose ends up with his girlfriend, Smiley's investigation, and finally his own death. That last scene with him and Bannen is just remarkable not only because of Bannen's cold yet deeply heartbroken portrayal of a betrayed man, but also Richardson's remarkable conclusion to the character, by accepting his guilt and death but trying to make final amends. Firth's final speechless scenes are also incredibly effective, but I would say considerably less so than Richardson's, they're not bad of course, in fact they are probably the high points of Firth's portrayal, but in contrast to Richardson's great work, my favourite television performance of all-time, it can't help but be overshadowed by the sublime magnificence of Richardson's portrayal.


Richardson: 5
Firth: 3

Terrence Rigby and Ciarán Hinds both played Roy Bland ('Soldier') in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy' in 1979 and 2011, respectively.


Roy Bland is actually a fairly, well, bland role in the scheme of things, but I do think Terrence Rigby gets much more of an opportunity to make an impression than Hinds. Most of this comes in his one big scene with Smiley, and Bland very effectively accentuates that very naturalistic, amicable yet also rather nihilistic manner of his. Rigby has a kind of Peter Ustinov-esque air about him, and I felt he could have been an absolute scene-stealer if he'd been given a few more scenes. Nevertheless, it's a very good characterization of one sort of washed up, yet not quite disgruntled, swine who doesn't really have a conscience, and doesn't seem to fussed about that. I won't say that Ciarán Hinds is bad at all, but it's just that he doesn't really have anything to do, at all, besides one speech which is quite frankly, rather inconsequential exposition, and sit around and look a bit intimidating. Hinds does not get any opportunity to flesh out his character, while Rigby has a bit of material and really does make the most of it, more than anyone else could've, probably.

Rigby: 3.5
Hinds: 2.5

Bernard Hepton and David Dencik both played Toby Esterhase ('Beggarman') in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy' in 1979 and 2011, respectively.

Bernard Hepton re-enacted his role as Toby Esterhase for the 1980s miniseries sequel to 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy', 'Smiley's People', which I am incredibly interested in seeing as he apparently takes on an entirely different approach to the character which is, in the words of many, both genius and makes sense with his depiction here. Mr Esterhase, I would say, is the closest we get to a comic relief character insofar as his primary qualities are his breezy manner, distinct lack of autonomy, and his general willingness to please. I may sound like I'm calling him out but don't mistake me; Esterhase is one of my favourite characters, but I will say that to properly demonstrate why he is, a performance must touch upon the right notes of his characters very, very carefully, and avoid descending into parody.

David Dencik as Toby Esterhase does not have that many scenes in the 2011 adaptation overall but unfortunately, he already manages to make a somewhat negative, kind of detrimental impact to the proceedings. Dencik plays Esterhase as being completely spineless and somewhat idiotic, highly incapable and sort of the proverbial scoff for levity within the Circus. Which I guess, works in one sense, as he is completely eaten up by the scenery-chewing of John Hurt and Toby Jones in the Circus boardroom scenes, and the quieter Oldman and even Firth, heck even Hinds makes a bit more of an impression in those scenes. Dencik I thought was fine enough the first time I watched the film but like Firth, but to an even larger extent, my reservations grew to an extent on re-watch that I ended up verging upon dislike of his portrayal. One reason for this being Bernard Hepton's great portrayal of Esterhase, which really does go out on a limb, but not in the conventional way at all.

Hepton plays the role as yes, a pushover, but with rather more complexity than Dencik bothers to give/can give. Firstly there's that accent he gives him which is almost exaggeratedly British in its intonation, almost as to mask some kind of foreign flavour he has underneath it, generating from the character conception alone a mystery that is well differentiated by the other darker enigmas on display. Beyond that Hepton is remarkable in imbuding Esterhase with such a polite, posh manner to him that's obviously quite a put on and yet feel entirely natural as something he'd be able to maintain so much as part of his personality. Really, I found Esterhase's conversations with the fellow members of the Circus particularly interesting because of how jovial and actually, quite sweet, he comes across as just this little puppy the other members subtly belittle and take advantage of. I particularly enjoy a specific little interchange between him and Guillam where he describes information as being 'ultra, ultra-sensitive'; Guillam's consequent response of 'I'll try and keep my mouth ultra, ultra-shut' is priceless not only because of Jayston's delivery, but the priceless look on Esterhase's poor face. Dencik, unfortunately, is quite boring and stoic in similar interactions, a bit of a stick in the mud really. It is not detrimental to the film really, but adding a bit more style to Toby's patheticness as a characters would have done a lot more to help him stand out.

Within Esterhase, Hepton also imbues a sense of ambition to move up in the ranks in the Circus that is palatable because of his little hints of Toby's inner desperation to be recognized. It's wonderfully underplayed work by him that makes Toby suspect enough as a potential mole, without compromising the inherent weakness of the character. Esterhase is very much aware that he is a 'little guy' compared to the 'big guy (s) of Percy Allenine and Bill Haydon, and this chip on the shoulder is evoked very well by Hepton, whereas with Dencik he leaves this aspect of the character to the domineering presences of the likes of Jones, Firth, Hurt, even Hinds. I don't know if my line of argument here is evident enough but Dencik really is underwhelmingly underwhelming.

Both characters get a big scene--indeed, probably the closest the 2011 film comes to an 'Oscar-y scene' is in the scene where Smiley interrogates Esterhase coldly about the address of a London safe house in order to catch the mole. Interestingly the potential is there for Dencik to give an Oscar-nomination worthy one-scene wonder of desperation and a man being broken down to nothingness. Dencik, however, continues to be underwhelming, and is not bad really, he cries well enough I suppose and has the right amount of belligerent anger to his tone, but it doesn't really add up to much. The real power of the scene resides with Oldman (I'll stop there for now). Hepton, in contrast, makes the gradual breakdown so incredibly powerful. Much of the credit has often gone to Guinness for unraveling the reserve of Smiley to reveal the cold, calculating and even montrous persona underneath all those layers, but Hepton, 'On the Waterfront'-esque style, is often neglected. He's incredibly moving in showing through Esterhase's mostly silent reactions, as his normally calm manner slowly breaks down, that he is both not a mole, nor a traitor, but instead a pawn in the game who is forced to suffer the consequences of his subservience. He works in complete, perfect harmony with Guinness to bring out the best of both portrayals and the basest emotions of Smiley and Esterhase. Hepton's excellent work turns potentially stock character into an incredibly effective facilitator of other characters, and a fascinating character creation of a fish out of water.

Hepton: 4.5 (verging on a 5)
Dencik: 2

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Friday 12 June 2015

Head-to-Head: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, 1979/2011. The Outcasts (Alexander Knox v.s. John Hurt, Beryl Reid v.s. Kathy Burke, Joss Ackland v.s. Stephen Graham)

Alexander Knox and John Hurt both played 'Control' in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy' in 1979 and 2011, respectively.


The figure of Control is perhaps the most enigmatic out of all the characters in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy'. A looming figure over the storyline despite his passing before majority of the crucial events in the storyline, the chief of the Circus in Smiley's prime also appeared in other novels like 'The Spy Who Came in From the Cold' and 'The Looking Glass War', and here acts as a sort of embodiment of the Circus of the past, a symbolic representation of the long bygone days the new officials have ushered out of being.

A large majority of Control's screentime and Hurt and Knox's performance--in fact, all of it really--comes in the form of flashbacks. He is a retrospective character used to examine the present case in greater depth, through the memories of others; it can be argued that he is the most purely supporting character out of all the characters in the story as the story is never related from his point of view, he is always seen from the viewpoint of another. This may on one hand be seen as a hinderance to the actor playing him, but on the other hand provides opportunities aplenty to play out the different sides of the man due to the different perspectives offered by others, sort of a Rashoman kind of deal, so to speak. Cyril Cusack previously played a considerably younger version of Control in 1965's 'The Spy Who Came in From the Cold', and it's interesting to note the differences to his portrayal and Knox and Hurts' portrayals. In 'The Spy Who Came in From the Cold' he was a strategist at the top of his game, Cusack's performance following in this vein; in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy' he is far past his prime. As with Cumberbatch, I have to mention the intangible casting brilliance of Knox and Hurt, both acclaimed and Oscar-nominated actors who, long past their leading man days and nicely settled into character actor roles, fit nicely from the very start as the world-weary Control who's perhaps spent far too long in the service, to the extent that it's having a detrimental effect not only on his physical, but also mental, health.

I haven't seen as much of Knox as I'd have liked to but his portrayal of President Woodrow Wilson in  the 1944 biopic is quite a remarkable portrayal, especially for those glorified 1940s biopics which too often painted shallow figures out of complex men. Knox, like James Cagney in 'Yankee Doodle Dandy', was excellent at playing a flawless man oscreen with just the right bit of extra flavour to make the performance enjoyable to watch. As Control, a role distinctly different from any other I'd seen him play, his ability to add doses of flavour to the role of the authority figure comes into play well here as Control, strict and domineering figure as he is from the very beginning, is nevertheless consistently interesting as he divulges to Ian Bannen's Jim Prideaux the identities of 'Tinker', 'Tailor', 'Soldier', 'Poorman', and 'Beggarman'. As for John Hurt, what more can be said that I'm a massive fan. He's one of those old-timers alongside Robert Duvall, Michael Caine who nowadays continue to bring such gravitas and passion to each and every one of their roles, who seem the enjoy acting for acting's sake so much. His turn as John Merrick in 'The Elephant Man' is in my opinion, one of the greatest performances of all time, using only his eyes and voice to convey the emotions and innate goodness of an externally deformed, but internally beautiful man. That being his grandstanding moment of cinematic greatness, he's been consistently great throughout his career in a variety of roles, from his delightfully sassy and endearing performance as Quentin Crisp in 'The Naked Civil Servant' to a cold, menacing turn as a seasoned gangster in 'The Hit', his wonderfully attuned leading man performances in '1984' and 'Scandal', and his unforgettable depiction of overwhelming pain in 'Alien', he's one of my favourite actors.

So what about Control, then? Well really the main meat of both actors' performances is their interactions with other characters, and they have very few scenes by themselves, so I guess I should start off with the different dynamics they strike with the fellow cast members, which actually do follow along fairly similar beats. The most important scene involving Control in both versions would probably either be the scene where he reveals the codenames of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Poorman and Beggarman to Jim Prideaux, and the boardroom scene where he accuses the fellow members of the Circus of his supicions about there being a mole. Knox uses a very consistently imposing presence to sort of dominate these scenes on the fringes; with Prideaux, delivering exposition in a rather brisk and blunt way to Prideaux, sort of luxuriating in his intellect as he reads out and analyses his naming process, but also maintaining that cold exterior while emphasizing the importance of 'one word' Prideaux must give him. With the members of the Circus his version of Control is rather passive aggressive, looming and with that ever-present glare of coldness in his eyes. Hurt, on the other hand, takes a more daring approach to the character that I feel works even better. His performance has an undercurrent of constant paranoia, and if you recall what I said about Hywel Bennett's portrayal of this being altogether too showy and actor-y, Hurt shows here how to make a compelling portrayal of megalomania by depicting how it comes in and out of his manner as a sort of constant inconstancy, and when talking about the mole makes it even more evident. I find that Hurt and Knox's approaches work equally well in the board scenes as Knox develops more of an understated relationship to each and every one of the members which makes sense for many of the more quiet performances on display in the 1979 version, whereas Hurt, when denouncing the likes of Haydon and Alleline, is presented as being decidedly more aggressive and necessarily so, to make himself heard.

With Smiley, both Hurt and Knox have this sort of comfortableness with each other that makes sense due to the smiliarly enclosed, reserved natures of both characters. Both do very well in laying the seeds however, for the underlying distrust Control has of everyone, really, by that constant vigilence both actors bring to the performance. With Percy Alleline, Hurt shows a streak of intense distaste, and even a bit of wry humour (as is the norm for 21st Century Hurt performances) that works incredibly well in establishing where Control is coming from with his fear of others trenching upon his prerogative. Knox takes a more dispassionate approach that is decidedly more tired and weary; sort of a victim of his own haplessness, almost too shocked by his own failure to do anything about it. This broken faith in their own abilities makes the downfall of Control all the more resonant; I do think that though Knox's understated approach works very well, particularly in the scene where he muses that 'nothing matters' now, Hurt's arc is all the more tragic by how he shows his failure to find the mole as almost a disease in his blood that's eating him from the inside, chartering this disillusionment through his physical and emotional performance. Though both performances are short, they both leave incredible impressions, though I have to say, Hurt even more so.


Hurt: 4.5
Knox: 4

Beryl Reid and Kathy Burke both played Connie Sachs in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy' in 1979 and 2011, respectively.



Effectively two one-scene wonders, this was certainly one of the easier choices to make. Kathy Burke is not bad at all as Connie Sachs as she has the right sort of cheekiness and desparation within the character that provides a worthy sparring partner with Smiley for her one scene. She has good comic timing and overall her performance works well, I would not say incredibly well though since she never really goes beyond the call of duty, unlike Beryl Reid.

A famed comic actress, Reid attacks the role with so much gusto and in her few minutes onscreen, probably enlivens the miniseries more than anyone else in terms of just being a radiant presence--but not in a usual sense. Sachs is an alcoholic, and while Burke left a bit too much of this characterisation to her general uncouth appearance and some slurry swearing, Reid does something amazing which is merging the cheeriness of this daffy lady with her drinking problem; the alcoholism is not used for laughs at all, yet it contributes to her general quirk of character in a way that just feels so natural. Guinness and Reid work incredibly well together in showing glimpses of the little world they and the Circus, and all her 'lovely boys', were shielded from the 'real world', by her very precise manner when talking about her past assignments; the way she playfully jests around with Smiley always has this sense of unaware sadness, that works so well.

Burke's performance is a good one but is limited not only by screentime but by the way she plays it perhaps a bit too safe, as the usual stereotypical kooky lady. Her impact is somewhat muted, whereas with Burke it's tremendous; when she bursts into tears at the end, begging Smiley not to come back if things are 'bad', is a fascinating blend of the grotesque and genuinely moving.


Reid: 4.5
Burke: 3

Joss Ackland and Stephen Graham both played Jerry Westerby  in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy' in 1979 and 2011, respectively.


This too will be a very short head-to-head, and rather one-sided as well, not because of the actors themselves but rather more the roles. Stephen Graham, from whatever I've seen him in, is always a solid presence in films whether he's doing his tough guy, criminal routine, or giving his performances that comedic bent that's so effective. Here, however, he's really too limited to make much of an impact, as the film really makes him into one very paper-thin plot device, essentially used to just bring Smiley up to speed with things as they are in the Circus.

Joss Ackland, on the other hand, gets a fair amount of screentime to develop the character of Jerry Westerby, one of Smiley's closer confidantes, it's still a relatively minor role but Ackland's natural screen presence is just rather effective in making this low-key camaraderie between his jovial extroversion and rather entertaining delivery of exposition. A character he most reminded me of was Arthur Kennedy's in 'Lawrence of Arabia'; a nor particularly moral but pretty charismatic journalist who knows a lot and is quite happy to reveal it all. 

Ackland: 3.5
Graham: 2.5


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Thursday 11 June 2015

Head-to-Head: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, 1979/2011. The Scalphunters (Michael Jayston v.s. Benedict Cumberbatch, Hywel Bennett v.s. Tom Hardy, Ian Bannen v.s. Mark Strong)

An adaptation of a John le Carré novel is always an interesting proposition and prospect. The excellence of the source material is never in doubt; nobody crafts a spy thriller quite as well as Mr Le Carré does, whose years of experience in the MI5 and MI6 have lent him insight and experience into the workings of espionage to coalesce with his wonderfully precise prose style. The main hurdle for adaptations is actually the core strength of his novels. The subdued, often internal intensities of his stories, revolving more often around the psychological than (as was the norm for spy fiction) the physical, they're hardly Fleming-esque in their adaptability for the general populous. No fancy gadgets and lovely ladies, magnificent set-pieces in exotic countries, nor the stylishness of Bond and his suave nemeses; le Carré's fictions revolve around a cold, quiet, and morally ambivalent stratosphere of cynical, unglamorous figures and personas. 

'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy' was my first step into the world of Le Carré via a triple serving of novel, film, and miniseries; and there's a reason I've been a fan ever since. I won't get into the novel too much at this point since it's an incredibly hefty tome to get through and analyse, but suffice to say it's well worth the effort even if some plot points get as murky as the ambiguous waters our protagonist, George Smiley wanders into. A plot summary encompassing all the different directions the story takes would be almost impossible, but as briskly and briefly as possible, I'll do my best. It's main focus is on Smiley, a former intelligence officer for the MI6, being whisked out of enforced retirement to help hunt down a mole amongst the ranks of the 'Circus', the highest office of British service. Smiley, alongside his confidante Peter Guillam, must root out the mole by digginng into a vast range of conspiracies surrounding the 'Circus' and its recent activities, among them an ugly leadership coup, love affair (s) that brings revelations of deceit within the ranks, a botched operation in Hungary, and a secret intelligence source by the name of 'Witchcraft'. 

Sound like a lot to take in at one go? You're not wrong--it's a pretty darn complex story to follow, and I'll do my best to elaborate upon it as I get along with my reviews. I was originally going to just do a Head-to-Head review of Alec Guinness and Gary Oldman in the lead role of Smiley but decided against that, for various reasons. One, I couldn't possibly cover every single intimate bit of brilliance in the storyline with just their reviews alone; two, the ensemble casts of both the 1979 television miniseries, and the 2011 film, are equally worthy of further exploration. There's so much to talk about each of them that I've divided them up into different groups, starting with today's lot, 'The Scalphunters', a division of 'The Circus' which, as the name implies, deals with some of the less savoury work of espionage

Before I get down to them though, let's quickly talk about the adaptations as a whole. The 1979 television miniseries is in my view, as good as it gets. It's incredible how director John Irvin, writer Arthur Hopcraft, and le Carré have managed to convey that very specific sense of atmosphere and Cold War-feel to the screeen, alongisde a combination of outstanding cinematography, a cracking theme tune, and of course many pitch-perfect performances. It's a wonderful viewing experience that makes a story which could've been fairly plodding run along at such a detailed, intricate and yet flowing pace. The 2011 adaptation by Thomas Alfredson is certainly imperfect and yes, feels much more compressed; but as a film on the whole it's a pretty incredible effort, effective in generating that same sort of underlying tension as the 1979 production, but managing at the same time to get characters and plot across within the limitations of the silver screen, and making it into a very compelling experience. 

Anyway, onto the performances. 

Michael Jayston and Benedict Cumberbatch both played Peter Guillam in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy', in 1979 and 2011 respectively.

I suppose I should note from the start that in general, I really haven't seen as much from the 1979 cast as I have of the 2011 cast, owing largely to my lacking perusal of British television miniseries in general. Michael Jayston is no exception, as I really have not seen him in anything else apart from 'Tinker Tailor', whereas I have seen a great deal of Benedict Cumberbatch in films ranging from small character actor roles in the likes of 'Atonement', to antagonists in 'The Hobbit' and 'Star Trek: Into Darkness', and critically acclaimed leading turns in the likes of 'The Imitation Game' and 'The Fifth Estate'. I will try not to bring too much of Cumberbatch's filmography into discussion here but I have to say that Cumberbatch's casting here is works rather well already in an intangible sort of way. There is always that cold, calculating edge he has to all of his performances (even when it's not really required), from Smaug to Turing, that works very effectively in establishing Peter Guillam as a highly professional, no-nonsense individual who goes about his rather menial position in the most effective way possible. What I did rather like, though was how Cumberbatch injected just a hint of warmth to his portrayal; not too much so that it compromised the brute efficiency and certain disillusionment of his character after being demoted to the unglamorous position of head of the 'Scalphunters', but enough so as to make him not as entirely off-putting. With just a bit of that typical eagerness and earnestness to what is effectively a sidekick to Smiley's character, Cumberbatch both acknowledges and subverts his typical persona quite effectively.

Jayston, on the other hand, makes Guillam into a rather straightforward stiff. It's rather admirable, then, how he manages to go about doing this in a rather compelling way actually, as within the constraints of this certain stiffness he has an edge of sardonic cool and wit about him that's really quite entertaining. I particularly love when he runs into members of the circus while stealing some secret files for George Smiley, and is consequently made to sit in one of their meetings. The way Jayston so subtly cracks a few snide remarks here and there, perplexing Roy Bland and Toby Esterhase and really pissing off Percy Alleline, is quite a delight to watch, as there is this streak of cockiness to his character, not of the usual 'hotshot sidekick' sort, but rather a world-weary cynicism that manifests itself into a sardonic disposition. Unlike Cumberbatch, who plays the equivalent scenes in the 2011 film with a bit more of a facade of geniality, but a well-meaning one at that, Jayston is far more blunt; both styles work very well in distinguishing Peter Guillam as a relative outsider to the deceit and machinations of the Circus.

Guillam, I feel, is a character often neglected as a 'thankless' role owing to the fact that he could be seen as a bit of a 'stick in the mud'. Not because he's a dull character, but that he's a relatively straightforward one...at least, so it seems. Neither Cumberbatch not Jayston ever overplay their roles as they always keep Guillam with a certain degree of reserve. It's easy to see how that approach, in lesser hands, may have not blended well with the very, very understated takes of Oldman and Guinness on Smiley (I'll stop at that), but I do think both actors do a very good job at differentiating themselves from the masterspy. Jayston and Guinness strike up a particularly interesting dynamic as they very effectively suggest a history between the two men that was probably not a very intimate one, and gradually building it up into a sort of camaraderie that's really quite endearing, actually. A meal-time chat between the two, I felt, was one scene where this interplay worked particularly well, as the seemingly inconsequential 'banter' between the two slowly develops into an insightful look for the audience, at the two men's common bond: their bond to their job. Cumberbatch and Oldman, on the other hand, have substantially less time to develop their bond but I think they do well enough with it as a more conventional mentor-protege relationship, with Oldman's more approachable manner (I'll stop at that) making Cumberbatch's eager to please act work quite well in making the two work together in a friendly manner (at least, as friendly as it gets in le Carré's universe. 

A crucial aspect of Guillam as a character are the gradual revelations of his hidden depths, of a decidedly different sort to the usual sidekick. Cumberbatch gets a very, very minor and frankly, quite rushed subplot about a male lover he has to kick out of his apartment, to avoid compromising the mission. The film does not handle this particularly well as it is very suddenly introduced, and equally suddenly used to set up a 'emotional beat' with Cumberbatch. Compared with Jayston's emotional confrontation with the spy over his agents in Africa, it really does feel rather forced and non-contingent with the plot as a whole, and incredibly superfluous, almost as if, the director had decided 'right we're going to cut out Guillam's emotional attachment to the case and add in something else, just to give Ben a chance to cry it all out'. Jayston, in the revelation scene of the spy, is simply heartbreaking as the disconcerting effect of him releasing his bottled-up rage is incredibly well done, but Jayston also still maintains that professionalism about him soon after the outburst, so as to stay in character. It's very well done work, albeit a bit brief and without a real resolution. Cumberbatch, to be fair, handles his little forced subplot as well as anyone possibly could, really, and is actually fairly heartbreaking. He also has more of a resolution to his character as that final reaction of his, a well-earned smile, I rather love. It's a slightly flawed portrayal of the character by the film, but Cumberbatch does his very best to overcome these flaws and turns in a good performance; Jayston also really does nail each and every step his character takes along with Smiley, and makes a lot out of certain places where other actors may have gone out of character and stumbled. Both portrayals are solid performances that I find myself liking more and more as I think about it, but for the time-being I shall go for the following result:

1. Jayston: 4/5
2. Cumberbatch: 4/5

Hywel Bennett and Tom Hardy both played Ricki Tarr in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy', in 1979 and 2011 respectively.


Before I get accused of predetermined bias of any sort, let me get out of the way first that yes, Tom Hardy is one of my favourite actors. No other thespian is on as hot a streak he is right now, and the very fact he hasn't been nominated for an Oscar yet (or even a Golden Globe...or a BAFTA...I mean, really?) is just egregious. That overwhelming presence he brings with every performance, and yet so easily slipping into various personas via his expert handling of vocal and physical transformation. He is as effective at being the raging titular convict in 'Bronson' as he is a deceptively gentle bartender in 'The Drop', a delightfully quirky action hero in 'Mad Max: Fury Road' as he is a sly, intelligent and quite domineering villain in 'The Dark Knight Rises', his incredible awards-worthy turns in 'Locke' and 'Warrior'...I could go on and on about Hardy's brilliance but I'll stop there. The spherical predominance of his greatness, however, should not affect my perception of his performance here as for the character of Ricki Tarr, I really have to examine how he, like all his other roles, disappears into it.

Well suffice to say from his very first appearance, Hardy makes an indelible impression as Ricki Tarr. As always he takes on a very particular voice and accent, a rather strange one that's kind of like his vocal work in 'Inception' as Eames, or as an agent of an altogether different sort in 'This Means War', it's pitched considerably higher but with that similar streak of mystery that seems to permeate each and every word. Vocal work is indeed, a very subjective thing to pass judgement on, but I must say that Hardy's very particular choice of vocal mannerisms is just pitch perfect in setting up Ricki Tarr as the rather unique sorta fella he is. Essentially a 'black sheep' of the Scalphunters, the most important thing for an actor to assert in Tarr from the outset is that he's a sly rogue who doesn't do things by the book, and yet is also to an extent 'innocent. Within reason'. The latter half of that characterisation is where I think Hywel Bennett is most severely lacking in his portrayal. I do think he nails down the sliminess of Bennett as he lurks about, spying on Boris, a Moscow Centre Intelligence Officer. It does also work, to an extent, in having that sort of conniving charm he displays in his interrogation scenes by Smiley and co. However, I can't help but feel that nerviness he brings to Ricki Tarr as he tries to get the better of his questioners feels a bit grating. A scene which I quite often find to be praised--where he tells Smiley that he's got a 'big story' to tell, about 'spies'--I find effective enough, but more because of Guinness' silent reactions than anything Bennett does, really. Hardy, with that lax yet introspective way he sits, languid in his description yet with something quite withdrawn, takes on mannerisms that, in my opinion, work far better than Bennett's and moreover, feel more natural, whereas with Bennett there was never a moment where I didn't see the acting behind the performance taking place. It's not a complete failure of characterisation, but it most certainly is flawed, which is a shame since the nervous tics and paranoid mannerisms, if toned down a bit, may have been very effective.

Another aspect of Tarr that Hardy nails and Bennett quite frankly, in my opinion, fails to completely convince, is the romancing of the Moscow Centre Intelligence Officer's wife Irina. Bennett's fairly limited in terms of the gamut of emotions he runs across with Bennett as that slimy quality of his never really goes away, I will give him a considerable amount of credit for the scene where after, sneaking into Boris' apartment and finding Irina, he puts on a 'angry Brit' act momentarily, as I do think it actually works quite well in showing a blunt yet effective technique Tarr employs in deceiving people. Had the rest of the performance been at the level he is here, Hardy may well have had stiffer competition. Hardy, I must say, is absolutely pitch perfect in his romantic scenes, incredibly so since his co-star opposite him is incredibly lacking in terms of both performance and characterisation. It's quite rare for a chameleon actor like Hardy, who so often portrays brutes and uncouth figures, to have a spot of fun romance onscreen. Hardy makes Tarr in these scenes to be such a roguish, charming fellow, and most importantly, not compromising his character through it. You can see how the enigmatic Tarr could, with just a few subtle variations, mend himself into both a passionate, energetic Loathrio, and at the same time lay the seeds for his character's descent into cynicism with those brief, haunting looks that charter his progression into realising that there are far greater repercussions to this affair than he may have imagined.

Bennett, in the end, just kind of makes Tarr to be a constant throughout. Whether he's attacking Smiley over his wife and children, or actually walking the walk as well as talking the talk in his assignments, he's just this conniving fellow who has that same expression of a paranoid glare and nervy way of speaking. It's actually an effective enough performance in the grand scheme of things since he doesn't really hurt the film as a whole, but it really does pale in contrast to Hardy's lively portrayal of Tarr. Make no mistake, Hardy's Tarr does have that same sly, ratty side that Bennett has, but he simply does so much more with the role despite having so much less time to develop it. In particular, he stands out so well in scenes where he could've easily been just lost amidst the other performances; kind of like Steve McQueen in 'The Magnificent Seven', he steals scenes away so effortlessly just by being in the background, accentuating his Tarr-isms and just adding to the overall atmosphere so well. You can see both the callous and somewhat unlikable side that makes Guillam attack him and others to feel somewhat indifferent to him, yet at the same time the same man as this kind, caring and compassionate man who just wants to help an unhappy woman out of her marriage. Two of his final scenes, in particular, mould these two sides of him incredibly well: one, the scene where he expresses excitement over taking out the mole, you literally feel Hardy/Tarr's excitement pulsating through your veins, and another, that final scene with him in the rain, where in a few speechless seconds he shows the final completion of his character's full circle from idealism to cynicism. It's amazing supporting work from Hardy who turned what could've been just a plot device (like what Bennet does, in my opinion) into a fully realised human being, not quite the soulless zombie most of the agents are but who ends up on a road to being one. The tragic arc of Ricki Tarr is actually not dwelled upon the 2011 film version overtly, but Hardy is so good at making something out of very little that it's just hearbreaking to watch Tarr's progression, whereas with Bennett I do feel that he makes Tarr servicable and his plotline works, but in the end nothing too memorable (and there was potential for more). I will agree that both of these performances are incredibly subjective due to both actors, in a sense, taking it out on a limb; and also that as Tarr states at one point, someone else may think what I see as 'gold is shit'. Still, I have no hesitations in giving:

1. Hardy: 5/5
2. Bennett: 3/5

Ian Bannen and Mark Strong both played Jim Prideaux in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy', in 1979 and 2011 respectively.

Jim Prideaux is effectively the character who sets the whole plot in motion. He's basically the butt monkey of the whole Russian operation to sniff our the spy within the Circus, as when the operation is blown and those involved in the operation are forced into retirement, Prideaux is the one made to bear the brunt of punishment. In both film and miniseries we actually do not spend very much time with Prideaux before and during the operation, so it's up to Bannen and Strong to within a few scenes (or in Strong's case, a few moments) to establish just who Jim Prideaux is, and what he's all about. 

The character of Prideaux requires an actor with incredible amounts of talent to take on the minimalist approach that is required of the role; and who better, then, to cast into these not so much thankless as bloody difficult roles than Ian Bannen and Mark Strong? An interesting thing to note actually is how much of dead ringer Strong is for Bannen in certain scenes as they have very similarly thick eyebrows and defined facial structure, as well as that incredible presence they utilise in every scene to make their presence felt. They're also both incredibly underrated in the public eye. Bannen was nominated once for an Oscar, for a (by all accounts) fairly unremarkable performance in 'Flight of the Phoenix', and yet is a sadly forgotten talent nowadays. He's great in 'The Hill' as one of the few embodiment of goodness, a wonderfully lovable old grandpa in 'Hope and Glory', and remarkably understated and effective as St. John Rivers (one of the most potentially unlikable characters in all of film/television adaptation history) in the 1970 version of 'Jane Eyre'. Always a solid, respected actor but never a star, he should be a lot more well-known than he is as he never, ever disappoints. Strong, on the other hand, is actually fairly well-known nowadays, however more for his loud, villanous roles in the likes of 'King Arthur', 'Kick-Ass', 'Sherlock Holmes', or his authority figures in 'Zero Dark Thirty' and 'The Imitation Game', and he's solid enough at doing that menacing, glaring routine of his. However, like another actor who's been pigeonholed into antagonist roles, Guy Pearce, Strong's true talents lie elsewhere, and he very rarely ever gets to show them. One opportunity being 'Welcome to the Punch' where he was once again a villain, but with a bit of added heart and empathy that Strong made wonders with (an incredibly strong lead performance, a 4.5 verging on a 5). Here, in 'Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy', he gets to show another side of his talents. 

In Strong's case, his performance in the opening moments make it clear that while Prideaux will most certainly be a memorable character. Most of his lines come at the beginning of the film, as he handles an operation that's about to go awry, but really that's not what I focus on each time I watch his performance. The core strength of Strong's performance of the already introverted Jim is effective by his various facial reactions; both Bannen and Strong are so good at showing that 'heavy quiet that commands' in Prideaux, as his friend Bill Haydon describes, that slowly breaks down as he watches the operation slowly crumble around him. It's brief and rather brisk, but from the very start Strong makes sure that Jim Prideaux is not a name we will forget by showing just how much devotion Prideaux has towards his work, contributing to his eventual disillusionment. Bannen is equally strong in painting the strong sense of professionalism within Prideaux with his interactions with Alexander Knox's Control, with a similar sort of introversion to that Strong has. Bannen gets to show the fear and desperation Prideaux experiences at his capture and it's brilliant work by Prideaux as he so viscreally portrays a very human man lurking within the professional spy. 

We actually do not get to see a great deal of either Strong as he is actually being tortured by the Russians, and none at all for Bannen really. This does not matter at all since both actors are absolutely fantastic in conveying the aftereffects of the torture and maltreatment in their performances, after Prideaux has been released by the Russians and is stationed as a schoolteacher at a prep school. It's quiet work from both, but incredibly effective, in that Bannen and Strong both showing just how little energy and life there is in Prideaux after his tormenting experience. Strong's performance, owing to the limited running time of the film, becomes almost a silence performance but this is no hinderance, in fact it is possibly the masterstroke of his portrayal, to hinge it all upon his facial expressions. A single look from strong, whether it's a quiet, grieving contemplation of his dead-end predicament, or his brief glimpses of horror at being tortured and his suspicious glances at Oldman's Smiley, are all unforgettable in that Strong can just evoke so much underlying emotion, and convey so much, without even speaking. As for Bannen, he gets a bit more to say, and a bit more to do. As the somewhat coarse schoolteacher he's actually quite enjoyably so, especially when he rounds his boys up to rally against the 'ju ju men' of spies at the school; and in his quieter moments dwelling upon his predicament he's equally effective. One thing I really like about Bannen's portrayal (and Strong's as well) as despite them being broken men, both Prideauxs still have that hint of cold efficiency and chilling potential for violence within them. Strong conveys it again, mostly through glances; Bannen's standout moment in this regard is when he tells Smiley that he has no hesitations in breaking his neck if there's other spies around the school premises; it's chilling not just because of the threat itself, but rather the way Bannen delivers it. 

Another high point for both performances are the Prideauxs' interactions with Jumbo, a lonely and equally introverted schoolboy whom Jim befriends. I will refer to Prideaux as Jim at this point as really, it is these moments where Strong and Bannen get to present the humanity within Prideaux. I love Strong's tenderness with the child as he keeps him company in a way that's not the usual sort of endearing, and could've easily come across as creepy, but is instead so very endearing. It does warm the heart to see the cold Prideaux gradually warm up ever so slightly. I particularly love the scene where he points Smiley out to the schoolboy with a blend of that espionage coolness and efficiency, but also with that hint of fatherly warmth that really is just fascinating. With Bannen it's a more casual sort of relationship as his Prideaux is given a bit more time to develop into the shell of a man he is, nevertheless he and Jumbo have some great moments too, like a scene in his trailer where he shows off his gun and another one which I shall leave to the very end of this review. 

When Smiley comes into the picture to question Prideaux and possibly find more about the Mole, Strong and Bannen take two very different approaches which are equally terrific. Strong remains quiet, and interestingly there does not seem to be any animosity in his portrayal of Prideaux towards the service; there's almost a hint of longing behind it all to return to that world, and yet also a certain bluntness that's very effective in showing his resentment towards the pain and suffering he has endured. With Bannen there is a more aggressive streak of  angst that is so heartrendingly viscreal, as he describes his experiences in Russia and his anger at the Circus and his past. It is amazing how they both take so different approaches that yet work so well. Strong's incredulousness and quiet shock at the 'madness' compared with Bannen's anger at his 'obeying orders and forgetting' are both just so pitch perfect that I can't help but love both equally.

As for Prideaux's relationship with his best friend (and possibly more) Bill Haydon...I'll leave the intricacies of that for a later time, so as to no spoil anything, but suffice to say one of Bannen and Strong has an incredibly lacking co-star to work with, the other a simply incredible one to work with. Nevertheless through very brief encounters and moments the two share together both Bannen and Strong share such a history between Prideaux and Haydon, and the deep connection they have. In particular, Strong through one glance conveys the multitude of years that's just amazing. Which all leads to the conclusion of Prideaux's arc where he is forced to entirely reject all notions of friendship and retreat into solitude. Bannen's final confrontation is incredible in that he does not show typical anger but rather, a sort of emptiness within him that implores him to commit the final act he does; he has come full circle and become the cool, efficient spy he once was, but now even more emotionally lacking than before. His final scene with Jumbo (and in the series) where he gently edges Jumbo on to finish a chapel service sermon is quietly understated, yet incredibly powerful work. Yet if Bannen excels, then Strong soars with flying colours too; firstly, his intense struggle within him as he tells Jumbo to stay away from him and not suffer from his fate, and lastly his silent, heartfelt reactions to an act motivated by hate, but regretted over loved. Both performances are masterful, and I really cannot choose one over the others; I promised myself before starting this blog that I would allow myself one, and one only, tie, and this I think is a good time to use it.


1. Bannen: 5/5 = Strong: 5/5



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Also, RIP Christopher Lee. A legend who needs no further introduction really, who gave his all no matter what and was just an all-round awesome actor. Will be missed.


Saturday 6 June 2015

The Top 10 (11, really) Overlooked Performances in Critically Acclaimed Films

Just a little article on 10 performances in 'big' pictures I feel should be given a LOT more attention than they are.




10. John Cazale in 'The Godfather Part II'



The only reason I put him so low is (1) the Academy has already been ravaged enough for this particular snub (2) everyone's complained so much about this oversight that it's not really overlooked anymore. Nevertheless...poor show, Academy. Poor show. 

9. Yūnosuke Itō and Mika Odagiri in 'Ikiru'


Now these are helluva set of underrated performances. Takashi Shimura's performance is amazing, no doubt, as is Kurosowa's direction, but this incredibly quiet masterpiece woudl have not nearly worked as well as it does without occasional flashes of more overt emotions. Itō and Odagiri are simply sublime as two companions of Shimura's Kanji Watanabe, respectively reflecting pained sympathy and joyous revitilization they bring to the poor man's life. They both have limited characters but also give incredibly strong, moving performances.

8. Donald Sutherland in Ordinary People



I'm not sure whether this was a case of deliberate underrating, or just incidental oversight. I rather like 'Ordinary People' but I must confess, each and every time I watch it I begin to see it more clearly for what it is: a very simple, quiet little suburban drama, with some very good, nominated performances and one great unnominated one. Each re-watch just proves to me that the real emotional resonance I get each time from this film comes from Donald Sutherland. First time you watch the film, you might barely even notice him amidst the histrionics of Hutton and Moore--but slowly, as you begin to study how he gradually unpeels the layers of his deceptively simple role, you realise, god he's good, and my he should have gotten that Oscar nomination (and if not for John Hurt in 'The Elephant Man', I'd give him the win without second thought). P.S. GET DONALD SUTHERLAND AN OSCAR

7. Celia Johnson in 'In Which We Serve'



I chose this performance out of all of Johnson's because I feel it is by far the most underpraised. 'In Which We Serve' did quite well at the Oscars actually, but received no acting nominations. And indeed, it didn't really warrant any outside of Johnson's beautiful performance which makes so much out of very little and makes, for me, the usual 'boring' scenes in a war film, the most compelling with her moving portrait of a lady who's given her husband away to the war effort. 

6. Pat O'Brien in 'Angels with Dirty Faces'



Cagney is great in 'Angels with Dirty Faces' no doubt, he's one of my top 10 leading male performances ever, but I feel Pat O'Brien's performance as the 'good priest' who's lifelong friends with Cagney's 'bad criminal' is criminally overlooked. He wasn't nominated for an Oscar, and boy did the Academy make a mistake there, for without O'Brien's wonderful work in helping Cagney mould both sides of his character's moral dilemma, as well as crafting for himself a portrait of a genuinely good man who's simply trying his best to help his buddy. 

5. William Holden in 'Bridge on the River Kwai'



Alec Guinness and Sessue Hakayawa got the Oscar nominations, and very rightly so.William Holden however, was not--and how wrong the awards organisations were to completely snub Holden, for her really does give a performance for the ages. He carries the film when Guinness and Hakayawa aren't around and makes the subplot of the Allies destroying the bridge really resonate. I don't think Holden nearly gets enough credit for carrying these portions of the film on his back when they could've easily been rendered superfluous, and it's that gradual progression from cynicism to a determination to do right that really makes the ending of the film work.


4. Veronica Cartwright in 'Alien'



The whole cast of 'Alien' is great really, but every time I re-watch it, Veronica Cartwright has been the highlight for me. No one else can quite scream and tremble with fear like she does, and the viscreal impact she brings to her (truth be told) rather thin character is just amazing. I will say that though Sigourney Weaver's performance in 'Aliens' was completely worthy of that Oscar nom, so was Cartwright's work here. Shame the Academy have to be so stuffy sometimes.

3. Anthony Quayle in 'Lawrence of Arabia'




'Lawrence of Arabia' has a great ensemble, and out of it Omar Sharif is particularly exceptional as Ali (and fully deserving of his nomination, and really he should've won), and Claude Rains and Alec Guinness too would've been fully deserving of nominations in a very competitive year. My favourite performance out of the supporting cast bar Sharif, however, has to be Quayle, who wonderfully creates the stiff persona of the British soldier only to gradually bring it down to earth and finally, transition into the most sympathetic and consequently, heartrending character in the film. I cannot stress enough how underrated this performance is; watch 'Lawrence' again, and marvel at it. 

2. Trevor Howard in 'The Third Man'



You can see my extended thoughts on the Head-to-Head with him and Richard Burton for 'Brief Encounter', but I feel with all the praise given to Graham Greene, Carol Reed, Orson Welles, that several crucial aspects to 'The Third Man''s brilliance are often overlooked. Joseph Cotten's inspired deconstruction of the All-American private eye, of course, but also Howard's amazing performance that turns an expositionary figure into a fascinating enigma; a sometimes cold, even callous figure who ends up being the moral centre of the story.

1. Robert Duvall in 'To Kill a Mockingbird'



I love, love, love this film and I love, love, love this performance but I can see why it's been overlooked. It's a short performance. It's entirely silent. His screentime doesn't even really focus on him. But it's just that Boo Radley, who's been built up as this mysterious figure throughout the film, is just so transcedent in Mr Duvall's hands that in my opinion, he steals the film away from everyone in his brief time onscreen. The marvellous Gregory Peck, Mary Badham, Philip Alford, Brock Peters...they're all great, but it's Duvall who really carries forth the final emotional impact of 'To Kill a Mockingbird', and is so often neglected as the crux of its success.

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