The Deadly Affair (1967) As the world became enraptured with Bond-Mania, the gritty, gloomy, fatalistic universe of John le Carre's spy novels stood out like remote islands of reality in a sea of secret agent spoofery.
The same held true for the film adaptations of le Carre's work that made it to theaters, starting with 1965's "The Spy Who Came In From The Cold".
"The Deadly Affair", a reworking of the author's first novel 'Call For The Dead' fell into the capable hands of director Sidney Lumet, whose films usually never strayed out of New York City.
But the material seemed a perfect match for Lumet, a dark, dramatic story brought to life by the cream of the British acting community. And populated by the familiar le Carre cast of characters.......British Intelligence operatives who are as far from Ian Fleming's dashing 007 as Earth is to Jupiter, middle aged, bureaucratic clock punchers who go about their espionage duties while pushing paperwork like dutiful file clerks.
One such weary operative, Charles Dobbs (James Mason) smells a rat in the sudden shocking suspicious suicide of a fellow agent anonymously exposed as a Communist. As if that's not enough on his plate, Dobbs finds out his chronically adulterous wife (Harriet Andersson) has taken up with Dieter Frey (Maximillion Schell) his dearest friend and former spy comrade from their World War 2 days.
We wouldn't even begin to explain the labyrinthine twists and turns of the plot as Dobbs' investigation uncovers double agents, triple agents, surprises, betrayals, murders and a clever trap sprung in the middle of a Royal Shakespeare Company performance. In true mordant le Carre fashion, the spycraft of these workaday Cold Warriors offers more ironic resolutions than thrilling victories.
As you'd expect in a Lumet film, nothing less than superb work from the entire cast, including that Brit icon of authority Harry Andrews as a retired detective helping Mason get to the bottom of things.
Despite the overall depressing doings, Lumet never lets the film lose any forward momentum, giving it the brisk pace of an action thriller. Oddly enough, the only element jarringly out of place is the jazzy, urgent music score by the late composer Quincy Jones.
While Jones's very contemporary music matched many 1960's films perfectly, it sounds completely at odds with the bleak somber world of John le Carre and his dispiriting, cynical spies. It's as if Jones laid eyes on the film he was scoring.
A must film for Lumet completists and even a damn good one for those who prefers their cloak 'n dagger grounded in the real dangerous world of espionage backstabbing.
3 stars (***)
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