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mallorys_cameraWent on a movie spree last weekend on the wake of my latest romantic – well, not crash and burn. Cough and sputter?
Saw the new, American Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Moneyball and Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, practically back to back.
Tinker, Tailor was the one I was most looking to, not because I’m a huge John Le Carre fan though that too, that too, but more because I find the cautionary moral tale of Kim Philby so utterly fascinating. Kim Philby, the inspiration for Harry Lime in Graham Greene’s The Third Man – Greene and Philby had once been very close friends, and Greene being a Catholic and therefore all too familiar with the age old story of the fall from grace and its redemption, could not despise Philby after his defection as practically every other one of Philby’s colleagues and friends either alleged to do or did. Kim Philby, whose father, the buccaneering St John Philby, was second only to Lawrence of Arabia in the shaping of the Middle Eastern conflict that now, at half a century’s remove, threatens the planet with a third World War. Kim Philby, who was passed over when it became time to assassinate Franco, because –as his Soviet handler at the time wrote the home office – “does not possess the physical courage and other qualities necessary.” Of course, there was also the confusing question of who Kim Philby was really rooting for in the Spanish Civil War anyway, Franco or the Nationalists? His actions left that unclear.
What the hell motivated Kim Philby? That’s what fascinates me. Burgess had that strange homosexual thing going; Maclean was vamped by the Mata Hara-ish Kitty Harris, Code Name: Aida. But what was going on with Kim Philby?
Myself, I think he was tired of living in the shadow of a charismatic father – also a spy, by the way – and merely set out to make his own name his. But being an intelligent man who couldn’t lie to himself about what he was doing without being drunk, he proceeded to become a raging alcoholic, which meant, of course, he slid deeper and deeper down the hole. Also, a good chunk of his espionage career took place during the War and the strange era leading up to it, when all the lines were much more loosely drawn.
Anyway, Tinker, Tailor is one of the many, many books about Kim Philby. Perhaps the best book.
The movie? Not so good. Terrible script. The book is not an easy read. It’s very… occult. No, not vampires-and-ghoulies occult, occult as in secrets, and it wasn’t until many years after I read the book that I was able to appreciate the magnitude of LeCarre’s accomplishment there: He had written a book that wasn’t just about espionage, but that was actually structured like espionage. No, realizing retroactively how brilliant that was did not make me want to read it again.
But what’s brilliant in a book does not translate necessarily into film, essentially a visual medium after all. Really, the screenwriter need to move the chess pieces and the “Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy” meme up into the second or third scene because without it, the number of seemingly indistinguishable male characters in ugly 1970s haircuts is overwhelming and you can not tell them apart. (I mean, I could – I read the book. But you...) Oh, and that’s the other thing – the set designer and costumer stayed very true to the aesthetics of the 1970s. And I’m here to remind you, the 1970s were an awfully ugly time.
I actually liked the American Dragon Tattoo much better than the Swedish Dragon Tattoo. The serial killer puts on Enya before he commences torturing James Bond!!!!! Plus the American actress, despite full frontal nudity with a real live muff, brought absolutely no sex appeal to the part which I think was the right choice for that character. The actress had a very Aspergers-ish feel to her.
Moneyball was my favorite of the three. A movie about my favorite subject, economics. What’s not to love?
Saw the new, American Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Moneyball and Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, practically back to back.
Tinker, Tailor was the one I was most looking to, not because I’m a huge John Le Carre fan though that too, that too, but more because I find the cautionary moral tale of Kim Philby so utterly fascinating. Kim Philby, the inspiration for Harry Lime in Graham Greene’s The Third Man – Greene and Philby had once been very close friends, and Greene being a Catholic and therefore all too familiar with the age old story of the fall from grace and its redemption, could not despise Philby after his defection as practically every other one of Philby’s colleagues and friends either alleged to do or did. Kim Philby, whose father, the buccaneering St John Philby, was second only to Lawrence of Arabia in the shaping of the Middle Eastern conflict that now, at half a century’s remove, threatens the planet with a third World War. Kim Philby, who was passed over when it became time to assassinate Franco, because –as his Soviet handler at the time wrote the home office – “does not possess the physical courage and other qualities necessary.” Of course, there was also the confusing question of who Kim Philby was really rooting for in the Spanish Civil War anyway, Franco or the Nationalists? His actions left that unclear.
What the hell motivated Kim Philby? That’s what fascinates me. Burgess had that strange homosexual thing going; Maclean was vamped by the Mata Hara-ish Kitty Harris, Code Name: Aida. But what was going on with Kim Philby?
Myself, I think he was tired of living in the shadow of a charismatic father – also a spy, by the way – and merely set out to make his own name his. But being an intelligent man who couldn’t lie to himself about what he was doing without being drunk, he proceeded to become a raging alcoholic, which meant, of course, he slid deeper and deeper down the hole. Also, a good chunk of his espionage career took place during the War and the strange era leading up to it, when all the lines were much more loosely drawn.
Anyway, Tinker, Tailor is one of the many, many books about Kim Philby. Perhaps the best book.
The movie? Not so good. Terrible script. The book is not an easy read. It’s very… occult. No, not vampires-and-ghoulies occult, occult as in secrets, and it wasn’t until many years after I read the book that I was able to appreciate the magnitude of LeCarre’s accomplishment there: He had written a book that wasn’t just about espionage, but that was actually structured like espionage. No, realizing retroactively how brilliant that was did not make me want to read it again.
But what’s brilliant in a book does not translate necessarily into film, essentially a visual medium after all. Really, the screenwriter need to move the chess pieces and the “Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy” meme up into the second or third scene because without it, the number of seemingly indistinguishable male characters in ugly 1970s haircuts is overwhelming and you can not tell them apart. (I mean, I could – I read the book. But you...) Oh, and that’s the other thing – the set designer and costumer stayed very true to the aesthetics of the 1970s. And I’m here to remind you, the 1970s were an awfully ugly time.
I actually liked the American Dragon Tattoo much better than the Swedish Dragon Tattoo. The serial killer puts on Enya before he commences torturing James Bond!!!!! Plus the American actress, despite full frontal nudity with a real live muff, brought absolutely no sex appeal to the part which I think was the right choice for that character. The actress had a very Aspergers-ish feel to her.
Moneyball was my favorite of the three. A movie about my favorite subject, economics. What’s not to love?
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sputter (teach me resilience, will ya? -- no foolin')
Date: 2012-01-10 04:12 am (UTC)Philby. Hear name, think "non-commital." Q. who would be the guy easiest to hate? Greene, ducked the truth less to me. To be Catholic is to fail. Knowing waits for you in bed.
The le Carré film, I see people liking it who don't agree on much. Same with the Tattoo flick. Sounded dour, that upper-latitudes Czech stuff. I've become sold.
Full frontal nudity. Carrie. Logan's Run. Life of Brian! --can be way fun. Or not. The Garden of the Finzi-Continis. When was the last time I saw a movie where FF nudity was a test of what an actress can do? A number of my women friends have been griping there's been almost no good sex in movies for maybe five years. Horrible and accurate insight. Have repeated it to many. But before that, nudity was (too briefly) the ultra actress test. Can you reveal more of the character to us than we are comfortable seeing? --yes. I've seen it. Maybe three times. I'm not saying you turn away from the screen, but a brilliant actress could have you watching horrified. The Finzi-Continis actress, smirked. Every woman in attendance HATED her. I remember the UCSD crowd, leaving. We all knew her.
Re: sputter (teach me resilience, will ya? -- no foolin')
Date: 2012-01-10 11:29 am (UTC)