Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (UK/ France, 2011)
Directed by Tomas Alfredson
Starring Gary Oldman, Colin Firth, Tom Hardy, John Hurt

You could be forgiven for approaching Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy with some degree of trepidation. So many European filmmakers, who rocked the world with their first few features, went the way of the dodo after they started working in the English language. And considering just how good Let The Right One In was, you find yourself almost begging that Tomas Alfredson hasn't gone the way of Wolfgang Petersen.O, we of little faith. Within minutes of his second film beginning, Alfredson has laid all such fears to rest, allowing us to enjoy one of the very best films of 2011. His adaptation of John Le Carré's highly regarded novel is as distinctive and artistic as his debut, packing in a gallery of superb performances within a perfectly rendered period setting. While it never entirely hits the heights of Let The Right One In, it is a more-than-worthy follow-up from a director who seemingly can do no wrong.For starters, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy is truly beautiful to behold. Alfredson reunites with cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema to create a highly evocative portrait of 1970s London. The screen is awash with faded greens and blues, and many scenes are shot partially or wholly in shadow to underscore the murky dealings that are afoot in the Circus. There is a perfect balance between artistic license and authenticity, creating a world which is both unique and instantly recognisable.Not only is Alfredson's vision of London so visually outstanding, it is also culturally nuanced. He identifies three separate cultures uneasily co-existing, evoking and demonstrating them through intelligent choices of music. We have the recent past, embodied by Tom Hardy's character, which is like a paler rendition of Life on Mars, complete with Mudd and David Bowie. We have the recent past, namely the 1960s, which is reflected in the Breathless-like scenes between Hardy and the girl in the convertible. And we have the Circus itself, which seems completely unchanged from the 1940s, or possibly earlier than that, as typified by the inclusion of a George Formby record when one of MI5's agents makes a call from a music shop.In Alfredson's hands, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy becomes a film about malaise and ennui. It depicts a Britain which is past its glory, not only as an imperial power but as an intelligence force: not only can it no longer conquer countries, but it is increasingly incapable of holding on to their secrets. The Circus increasingly positions itself as a buffer zone, refusing to admit reliance upon its American "cousins" and contenting itself with gathering intelligence about Soviet activity in Europe.The Circus is depicted as the very definition of old-fashioned. If there wasn't a close-up on the ticker-tape showing it was 1973, you would swear that this was the War Office and we were still fighting the Germans. All of the furniture, from the wooden chairs to the Bakelite phones, seems left over from the war, and in the libraries you can almost smell the dust on the shelves. It feels like an organisation built upon self-denial - a collection of people who continue existing without any real reason for doing so. Without any 'proper' wars left to fight, everything Britain stands for has become redundant, and no-one, not even Smiley, is willing to admit it.In the best possible way, the film is very slow-paced for a thriller. It would be totally inappropriate to tell Le Carré's story through Bourne-style shaky-cam and rapid editing, because the material and the technology surrounding it is does not have a 2011 sensibility. This is still an analogue world, in which conversations are transcribed off reel-to-reel tape recorders, bugs are hidden in lampshades, and people signal through flashlights and banging on walls.

The film is also old-fashioned (in a good way) by its methodical patience. With the exception of Control's outburst or Jim Prideaux beign shot, the conversations in Tinker, Tailor are quiet and considered, containing nothing that could be classed as histrionic. Smiley doesn't speak for the first fifteen minutes, and even when he is interrogating the Magic Circle he never shouts: he takes time to phrase his questions, refusing to give anything away and ensuring that he need not repeat himself.You could argue that this understatement and emphasis on method over movement is another period detail; because modern espionage is built around the internet, it makes sense for the camera to move faster and for things to be more action-packed. But it's also a reflection of Le Carré's sensibility. Where his contemporary Ian Fleming was drawn to the glamour of spying, Le Carré sought to dismantle all such illusions, emphasising the loneliness of spying and the moral ambiguity of the protagonists.If a James Bond film is like a shooting gallery intercut with car chases, Tinker, Tailor is like a tricky game of chess. It is a film about characters who are in the endgame: they see the doom of their organisation approaching, and it is a question of when and not if they will be dragged down with it. After Control and Smiley are forced out (with the former dying soon after), it becomes a scramble for power with Percy Alleline emerging as the leader. We follow Smiley as he navigates through the mind-games to uncover the mole - to find the king whom he will trap in an elaborate mate.The inward-looking nature of the Circus is reflected in the understated performances of an extraordinary ensemble cast. In many ensemble films, the cast often compete for attention by out-acting each other, but Alfredson is too smart to put up with any such nonsense. This is a film in which the tiniest little gesture can say everything about a character, whether it's the raise of an eyebrow, the twitch of a lip, or the slightly forced way that Colin Firth smiles at the ghastly Christmas party.Because the TV adaptation of Tinker, Tailor is so well-regarded, any new adaptation in any medium will have to be compared to it. And for all the brilliance and quality of Alfredson's work, there are a couple of areas in which the TV series has the edge. There is not much between them in terms of cast - Gary Oldman can hold his own against Sir Alec Guinness, and in Colin Firth's current form he is more than a match for Ian Richardson. But in compressing the novel or the series into just over two hours, there are two small flaws with this adaptation.Because the cast is so strong, and charismatic, you find yourself wishing to see more of them, something you do get with the TV series. When you've got someone as radiant as Tom Hardy, or as enigmatic as Benedict Cumberbatch, it doesn't seem fair to give them so little screen time. More to the point, a lot of the rich language of Le Carré's novel has been reduced. Bill Haydon's explanation of why he defected is reduced to a few teary sentences, and Smiley seems to centre in on Hayden relatively quickly. These shortcomings aren't enough to throw the whole film off course, but it does put you in the unusual position of wanting it to be half an hour longer.To be fair on Alfredson, he does make up for these tiny shortcomings by bringing out new aspects of the story, particularly the sexual nature of the characters. There are strong indications that Haydon and Prideaux were lovers, from the loaded glances at the Christmas party to the photograph of them together, which Haydon keeps when he raids Prideaux's flat. Haydon is ultimately killed by Prideaux by being shot under the eye: a tear flows from Colin Firth's eye, mingling with blood over the bullet wound, and the camera cuts to Mark Strong, also in tears.Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy is an almost perfect film. Its flaws are so miniscule and yet so clear that they will drive you to the point of frustration. But no amount of lingering on them can detract from its status as one of the year's very best films. The performances are superb, the visuals are extraordinary, and Alfredson directs with a reserve and intelligence which is all too rare in modern filmmaking. A true gem.

Rating:
Verdict: Almost perfect

Let The Right One In (Sweden, 2008)
Directed by Tomas Alfredson
Starring Kare Hedebrant, Lina Leandersson, Per Ragnar, Peter Carlberg

There comes a point as a horror fan when you think you've seen it all. You've gotten used to the same old monsters turning up in increasingly similar stories, and you begin to lose faith in the ability of films to deeply scare and affect you. And then, out of nowhere, comes a film which completely blindsides you, a film which touches a part of you which you thought had ceased to exist, and which warms the heart even as it sends shivers down your spine. As it was with Pan's Labyrinth, so it is with Let The Right One In.Tomas Alfredson's adaptation of John Adjive Lindqvist's novel is an outstanding, extraordinary piece of work, and one of the very best films of the decade. Equal parts vampire horror, coming-of-age fable, crime drama and intimate romance, it is the film which truly makes vampires scary again, and gives them a genuine reason for continuing to turn up on our screens. The film is every bit as frightening and chilling as it is touching and heartbreaking, and once exposed you will remember it forever.

What makes the film so initially extraordinary is its distance from the horror genre in terms of its production. Lindqvist may be an acclaimed horror writer, but Alfredson had next to no knowledge of horror or vampirism before coming to the project. When a director approaches a genre in which they have no prior interest or experience, the result can be disastrous - Roland Joffe's Captivity being all the proof you need. But in this case the distance is what makes the film so special. Alfredson has spoken about the tendency for filmmakers to 'blue-print' each other, to copy their visual approaches so closely that the finished products become homogenised. His distance allows him to make a vampire film without any baggage or fanboy prejudices, and in doing so completely redefine a genre.Aside from its resemblance to Pan's Labyrinth, Let The Right One In merits comparison with other works by Guillermo del Toro, who himself described the film as one of the best he'd seen in years. Both Let The Right One In and Del Toro's Cronos are vampire films in which the vampirism is not a symbol for sex or lust: the latter explores it as a reaction to ageing and the fear of death, centred on the close friendship between a young girl and her grandfather. There are also tonal similarities with The Devil's Backbone, a ghost story set during the Spanish Civil War. The film is haunting to watch, with the pale nature of both characters and landscape making the community on film like a hinterland between our world and another.Let The Right One In is on one level a film about loneliness. Both Oskar and Eli are different kinds of outcasts, individuals who find each other in a world which isn't ready to accept either of them. Oskar is shy and sensitive, finding it hard to make friends and making himself an easy target for bullies. Eli, meanwhile, is probably hundreds of years old, and is used to moving from place to place to avoid being discovered and destroyed. The film taps into a central tenet of the original Dracula novel, namely the vampire's fate to live a life of solitude and torment at the hands of his victims. The price of immortality is the feeling of guilt or shame which surrounds the means of achieving that fate.

The film is also a coming-of-age story, but again in an entirely non-sexual context. Oskar's shyness and cowardice is counterpointed and contradicted by his obsession with death. He keeps a knife under his pillow, collects news clippings about murders and knows rather a lot about forensic pathology. His first lines, "Squeal like a pig!", are quotes from Deliverance, and yet for all his determination he lacks self-belief. Only after meeting Eli does he begin to stand up for himself and act like a man; only when he finds an equal or source of strange affection does he find a way to channel this inner rage.Mark Kermode famously described Let The Right One In as a film about children that just happens to feature vampires. There is no clunky attempt made by Alfredson to draw on the back catalogue of vampire stories, nor is there any lazy twist to sexualise the story as Oskar and Eli grow closer. The few romantic scenes (if they can be called that) are shot with the utmost respect for the characters, and the film clearly emphasises the relative innocence (or apparent innocence) of both parties. Even the brief shot of Eli wearing no underwear is a red herring, reinforcing the character's androgyny rather than giving in to base titillation.What distinguishes Let The Right One In from so many vampire films is its subtlety. Everything is beautifully underplayed and the film reveals itself very, very slowly; little touches in the imagery and colour say all that is needed, and the dialogue just fills in the blanks. There is hardly any soundtrack, and what remains is prominently bittersweet, reinforcing the sombre and poignant tone with nothing to distract us from the sad beauty of the central relationship. It's lazy journalism to compare a Swedish film to Ingmar Bergman, but there is the same sense of sparse, existential emotion at work here.This sombre and tender approach makes the violence in the film all the more scary and shocking. The film is a 15 certificate, which means most of the really nasty stuff is implied rather than expressed. But we almost don't need to see all the scenes of Eli feeding, not just because we know what she is but because being too explicit detracts from her enigmatic nature.

All the violent scenes in Let The Right One In are handled directly and sensitively: they are never gratuitous or over-egged, but neither is there any attempt to sanitise the actions of Eli and her family just because we empathise with them. Whether it's a man hanging from a tree with his blood collecting in a jar or Ginia bursting into flames in the hospital, the scenes of blood-sucking and its consequences are chillingly no-nonsense. Alfredson's camera in these scenes is purely an observer, not a judge. He puts us alongside the murders, neither condoning nor condemning the characters, and thereby increasing their impact.What makes Let The Right One In so special is the precise way in which it scares you or chills you. There is a harrowing moment where Eli walks into Oskar's room without being invited, and she starts to violently haemorrhage, with blood pouring from her eyes and every part of her body. What seems upsetting in its own right becomes even moreso with the symbolism contained therein. When Oskar screams and begs her to come in, he is breaking down the barrier of rejection towards Eli and overcoming his own distance from other people. The final scene on the train is heart-in-mouth stuff, leaving our story suitably open-ended and ambiguous. On one level, it's the confirmation of a love which cannot work and yet must; on another, it's a dangerous and potentially fatal step into the unknown.Let The Right On In is on a par with Pan's Labyrinth and is one of the best films of the last decade. The central performances from Kare Hedebrant and Linda Leandersson are terrific, the latter maintaining a childlike innocence while bearing the weary expression of age. Alfredson's direction is superb, playing every scene and sentence note-perfect and choosing his angles and lighting meticulously to create a haunting atmosphere. Forget Twilight, forget the American remake - this is the Citizen Kane of modern vampires.

Rating: 5/5
Verdict: A haunting, chilling, heartbreaking masterpiece