Like the John Le Carre on which Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy is based we are introduced to the story media res as Control (John Hurt) advises “Trust no one Jim, especially not in the mainstream … They’re after my head Jim boy.” Unaware of Control’s intent – or even his name; at this point we only know it’s John Hurt – or to who Jim is, the audience has little recourse than to watch and wait. Why do people want Hurt’s head? Who are these people? Who should I be rooting for?
Eventually, we find out that Control “has the name of the mole the Russians have planted,” and with this tidbit of information, director Tomas Alfredson immerses us in what can best be described as the cinematic equivalent of a chess match – both figuratively and aesthetically, but more on that in a moment. First, a word about Alfredson: he just might one of my new favorite directors. Prior to this film, his most recognizable was Let the Right One In, a movie that I have no qualms declaring is the best vampire movie made in the last thirty years. At the same time, his grasp of that material – and of Le Carre’s – is not the sole reason for praise. Rather, in both films, he provides numerous wide shots packed with activity but devoid of quickness and thrashing cuts between angles that are, generally speaking, used more as a visual trick to create the illusion of action and suspense than to tell a story.
For an example, in one of the very first scenes following the intelligence about the mole, we end up in a café where a man produces a gun, a chair is knocked over in haste, the gun is fired, a stream of blood seeps from a woman’s temple, and a body falls to the ground. All of this is done within one shot, and the minutia of it all creates the suspense. Who has been shot? Why? Is he the mole? Does he merely know about the mole? Who’s the random woman who got shot? Who’s the guy with the gun? Why is everyone as still as a statue? Most of the previous questions are answered throughout. The last is intimated through Alfredson’s style, and the answer is because the people in the frame are fearful they will perish — the same reason why patrons who watch Michael Corleone kill Capt. McCluskey (Sterling Hayden). They don’t flee for the exit; they sit an hope Michael doesn’t kill any of them. Those close enough to the shooter don’t want to rouse him. Running may cause him to panic, so everyone petrifies as if transmogrified to furniture.
This pace continues throughout and adds more to the film than the story underneath. Sure, it’s a fine tale, and it’s acted by an accomplished cast, but the genius of this film are the subtleties and the meticulous attention to detail. These two aspects go hand in hand during each flashback wherein the differences between an older and a younger George Smiley (Gary Oldman) are the more noticeable wisps of gray hair and the color of his glasses. Tortoise shell glasses are donned by the youthful spy while the veteran prefers solid black frames. Of course, there are multiple symbols within this aesthetic choice. First, the black glasses represent a type of experience as well as a clear cut side. (Remember after all, we are in the midst of a spy thriller, where you’re either for us or against us. One can’t very well dance on the chiaroscuro of international relations.) Secondly, the minor differences in appearance, despite the decade in between, suggests that Smiley’s role is perpetual. Certainly, he will perish eventually of natural causes or what have you, but his death is merely part of the game. His piece will be removed and another will take on the role of putting the opponent in check. Some will be lost, and some will be sacrificed, but the game doesn’t stop.
This idea of replacement and death are dealt with throughout, particularly when Control dies early on in the film. There’s suspicion that he’s been murdered, but the focus remains on finding the mole. No one loses control of their emotions or breaks down from nostalgic memories. Control perishes, and the game continues when Percy (Toby Jones) acts as the pawn who crosses the board and gets exchanged for a missing piece. It seems that death, even if it’s by malicious design, is organic. And, as Percy sets himself at the head of the table and the other spies surround him, the screen is filled with an eerily surreal image of a chess board. The walls are made of pyramidal, soundproof foam, and as the camera moves to table level, each triangular shadow becomes square, each separated equidistantly by blocks of orange. Here, I suppose black and white would have been too obvious, but the visual significance in the same. What’s more, the table is a glossy, reflective, black, and one that mirrors the walls, setting each spy on a gigantic board with the new Control in the center as if King.
Allusions of this sort are also conjured in the predominantly black and white attire of the spies, but more so in the framing of each scene. Each shot contains at least one separation as if a square on a chess board. Most often, this is a window frame of some sort, but on occasion, it’s a door frame, a load bearing wall, or a separating wall. Regardless, characters begin in their respective “square” and hardly share one. If they do, there’s an altercation or a disagreement, and one must vacate. There’s a stunning fluidity to this visual tactic, one that both highlights the mission at hand for each spy, and one that addresses the issue of ownership. A single space and its solitary owner is unadulterated and can’t be misconstrued as a traitor or double agent, and, what is a primary goal in chess if not to own the center of the board and hold position?
With all of this attention paid the aesthetics of the film, Alfredson does show his hand a bit and inadvertently reveal the mole well before the halfway mark. It’s subtle, but it’s there, and if you don’t catch it, so much the better inasmuch as it makes the end a bit anticlimactic.
However, the end of the film is as it should be: a few men work together to place their opponent in check, and without mercy, one piece eliminates the chance for a draw by moving one more time to place the King in Check Mate.
