When Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy started, I assumed the film was going to be a bit of nostalgia about the Cold War. About a time when men where men; about the way things used to be; about how the Cold War was such a clearer time when we could name our enemy, unlike this War on Terror; and something in the vein of remember the glory days for straight, white old men. There were plenty of old white men in this film about the highest ranks of the British Secret Intelligence Services, about the bosses of spies. As their deeply wrinkled faces filled the screen, I couldn’t help but to wonder if we’d ever see older women with deep-set wrinkles obsessed with their jobs lining the screen. (Yes, I know about Iron Lady, but I want an entire cast filled with women with wrinkles and whatever is our equivalent of balding.)
Much to my pleasant surprise, Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy does not glorify the Cold War. Perhaps due this being a British film, it instead is as much a critique on the ridiculousness of the Cold War spy as it is a critique on masculinity, specifically the notion of what it is to be a spy. With the exceptions of Peter and Ricky, these men are old. They were once war heroes. For the most part, they send out others to do the dirty work and play chess with Moscow, with Karla, their Soviet equivalent. Continue reading “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy Film Review”
