Yap vs. Yap: Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy

This week, Sam Watermeier duels guest Yapper and Ball State classmate Evan Dossey over the recently released thriller “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.” Based on the classic 1974 novel by John le Carré, the film follows espionage veteran George Smiley (Gary Oldman) on his hunt for a Soviet mole scurrying within British Intelligence at the height of the Cold War.

Sam: I feel like a Scrooge. A couple weeks ago, I argued with Yapper Joe Shearer against one of the holiday season's biggest hits, “The Descendants.” Now, I find myself on the offensive yet again regarding another one of this winter's critical darlings, “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.” I could lay all my criticisms on the line right now and explain why I squirmed in my seat while you sat captivated beside me. But in the interest of seeming like less of a Scrooge, I'll give this movie a moment in the sun before I tear it to shreds. So, starting on a positive note: What do you like about this much-heralded spy thriller?

Evan: “Downbeat” and “understated” were our initial responses to the film. While you didn't enjoy it, I relished it. There was a certain charm to its pacing, which I felt flowed smoothly from one event to the next without need of defining setpieces or over-the-top bursts of action. Characters moved in and out without much introduction beyond referential dialogue, which kept my attention. If I spaced out, for even one second, I feared I might have missed something integral to the proceedings. I haven't attended a whole lot of movies with such a high attention requirement in the past year or so. Being made to pay attention gave the film a special quality and being rewarded for that attention made it even better for me.

There's something attractive in what is essentially a workplace drama about espionage agents during the later Cold War. The character motivations are as petty as an egotistical boss’ triumphing of an idea because it's his idea, damnit, regardless of logical implementation. In fact, that is precisely what happens in the film.

This is a far cry from other super-agent dramas. To use a more contemporary analogy, it is basically the AMC take on James Bond — a dialogue-heavy drama about sometimes exceptional men with exceptional failings.

Sam: Thinking of it as a workplace drama is an interesting view. In that sense, and in regard to your AMC comparison, it's especially similar to “Mad Men” in that it reveals the warts behind a typically romanticized profession and the people who work within it. (It's also stylistically similar, with a visual reverence for the '60s that borders on fetishism.)

Like most AMC dramas and many films coming out of Hollywood these days, “Tinker, Tailor” is a sly work of revisionism, seducing the audience with traditional genre tropes and quickly subverting expectations. But unlike, say, “Casino Royale” or “The Dark Knight,” it sacrifices cinematic excitement in the process.

Perhaps it is unfair to compare a film to its trailer, but I never felt the unsettling sense of dread and suspense that “Tinker, Tailor's” preview evokes. Then again, that seems to be the desired response, the film's primary goal — to make high-stakes espionage seem scarily routine.

But rather than conjuring a sense of movie magic in its demystification of a romantic world, “Tinker, Tailor” left me cold — a criticism paid not only to the film's style but its performances as well. After all, why should I feel any urgency when the characters clearly don't? Hell, Gary Oldman's character is so reserved in the film's scary situations that I wondered whether he was even human. Was that a desired response as well?

To me, “Tinker, Tailor” is the worst kind of revisionist work — one that strips a story of emotion in the process of subverting expectations. It's more fun to analyze as a piece of post-modernism than it is to watch. Like its characters, the film is more prone to cold analysis than emotional engagement.

Evan: It isn't paying visual reference to the ’60s. It's just set shortly afterwards, and I really wouldn't argue it's fetishistic any more than any period piece. By that logic, any movie set in the past would be fetishistic ... which may be the case, of course, but a debate for another day.

I don't think it's particularly sly about what it's doing; in fact, all my wonderful Wiki-powered research shows it to have been originally written with the idea of subverting superspy tropes. The film itself never seems to venture into a conventional mode, either, starting with a ludicrously silent protagonist and a somewhat confusing plot. Any slyness was in the advertising machine for the film, which misrepresented it in hopes of (and seemingly succeeding to) attract a broader audience. The film itself makes no attempt at masking its portrayal of Smiley, Peter (Benedict Cumberbatch), Prideaux (Mark Strong) or any of the other characters involved. They're all serving the theme of the film quite blatantly. It's unfair to judge a film based on its trailer and what you expected to see, given the lack of oversight most filmmakers have over the trailers.

Oldman's performance was reserved, but so was his character. He was amongst the best spies in the world, but one of the most mediocre men to ever marry a woman or have a home life. And that intersection of personal life and career was integral to the character's journeys. These men are incredible at their work but ultimately can't have personal lives. Peter throws away his lover, Ricki (Tom Hardy) almost throws away his life (and a mission) for a girl and Prideaux has to cast off the kid he's grown to care for.

Sam: The fact that they couldn't lead personal lives didn't surprise me. It seemed like a given considering their line of work. However, I suppose that makes the film different from spy thrillers like the Bond and Bourne films in which the lead spies easily manage to squeeze in romance between gunfights.

George Smiley is certainly no James Bond or Jason Bourne. And in comparison to their worlds, his is quite bland and sad. Thinking about this harsh reality that lies beneath the glossy preconceptions of the spy world is interesting. Watching it, however, is a bit arduous.

I can see how this film would leave quite an impression upon the first viewing. It obviously provides food for thought. But I doubt it holds up the second time around.

Evan: I would expect a film as complex as this to hold up quite a lot better the second time. Your expectations for a traditional blockbuster catharsis would be lowered, leaving you prepared to analyze the film on its own merits ... but that's just speculation, really, and rather baseless at that.

The undercurrent of impotence and sadness in lives traditionally depicted as exciting, meaningful affairs was powerful to me. I can see entirely where it didn't rub you quite properly, and that's fine. I'm not sure there's a lot more I can say on the film when it comes down to one of us connecting with its tenor and the other not so much. Chalk this disagreement up to personal inclination.