Post by Eddie Love on May 15, 2010 23:43:35 GMT -5
Other spies arrived in theaters throughout the 60s in the wake of James Bond, but “Harry Palmer” ranks more as a relation than an imitation. Call him “the cousin of Bond.” After all, Harry Saltzman produced his first appearance in THE IPCRESS FILE, Ken Adams designed the production and John Barry scored with Peter Hunt as editor. All were alumni of Bond’s first films. I believe Saltzman’s initial intention was to alternate releases of the more imaginative, escapist fare of 007, with the grittier real-world adventures of Palmer in the interim.
Len Deighton first introduced his spy hero in the classic novel of the same name. (Or didn’t introduce him as the case may be, the character’s name was never given.) Unlike James Bond, Deighton’s spy is a civil servant at the mercy of his bureaucratic bosses. He complains about his expenses and pay and is awash in the forms and reports he must complete. (The very title here refers to some of the office’s paperwork.) The plot of the film is a confusing one, but neatly streamlines the even more confusing novel, which takes the hero from the Middle East to an atoll in the Pacific. (As I've mention, this book and all of Deighton's output holds up brilliantly upon re-reading.)
Also, “Harry Palmer” is more of a man of action than the character in the book, who eschews violence. (Indeed, in the second novel in the series A HORSE UNDER WATER, there’s a classic scene where he bolts from an ambush that has left a close colleague dead. Later, he cautions his sometimes girlfriend at the office, that revenge isn’t his job. These sentiments just wouldn’t fly in today’s world of the fictional hero where inevitably everything’s “personal.”)
If “Harry Palmer” is the flipside of James Bond, than THE IPRCRESS FILE is the flipside of the first Bond films. Rather than richly exotic, this film is drab and somewhat washed-out looking. Its dreary, rain-soaked settings have more in common with the gritty kitchen-sink English filmmaking of the time than say, FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE. It’s an extraordinary credit to Ken Adams to realize he could go from creating the lush world of 007, to working in the thoroughly naturalist tones here. Similarly, John Barry supplies recognizably Bondian underscoring, but also lays on some cool jazz touches as well.
(While Bond may have enjoyed the lifestyle men of the time craved, “Harry Palmer” leads the life many a bachelor actually had, and this includes cooking his own meals in his cramped apartment. (Deighton himself was something of a gourmet and published a much-loved cookbook for bachelors in the 60s, and indeed, those are his hands slicing, dicing and cracking eggs in the film.))
The whole film is stylish, without ever being too self-consciously so. The director Sidney Furie composes his shots at odd angles, with the characters often partly obscured or sharing the frame with objects that take up most of the image. He seems to be paying homage to Carol Reed’s work on THE THIRD MAN. (Barry’s score makes canny use of a zither as famously heard on that film’s score as well.) However, instead of war-torn Vienna, Furie’s characters are captured askew in dingy government offices or telephone booths. There’s one shot where Caine’s head seems to be resting amid the paperwork in his inbox.
The film works best in its early scenes, which wonderfully capture the sardonic flavor of the novel and its protagonist, perfectly embodied by Caine. Later, when the film turns its attention more to the plot, we lose that satirical edge and things get fairly conventional. We also have several long scenes without Caine and his presence is missed. Maybe as this was his first starring role, they didn’t realize the extent he would command the attention of audiences.
Perhaps the film’s biggest drawback is the fact that the climax revolves around the then hot-button paranoid fixation on mind control or “brainwashing.” (This type of thing turned up a fair amount in The Avengers.) The sequence feels more dated than the rest of the film. It also leads to a rather abrupt conclusion, where we don’t sufficiently reconnect with Palmer.
THE IPCRESS FILE works on it’s own terms as a thriller that may meander a bit, but is still engaging. While it may not hold up as well as the masterful source material, it’s a delicious relic of the period and the striking calling card of an actor who was to become one of the great screen stars of the next half-century.
Len Deighton first introduced his spy hero in the classic novel of the same name. (Or didn’t introduce him as the case may be, the character’s name was never given.) Unlike James Bond, Deighton’s spy is a civil servant at the mercy of his bureaucratic bosses. He complains about his expenses and pay and is awash in the forms and reports he must complete. (The very title here refers to some of the office’s paperwork.) The plot of the film is a confusing one, but neatly streamlines the even more confusing novel, which takes the hero from the Middle East to an atoll in the Pacific. (As I've mention, this book and all of Deighton's output holds up brilliantly upon re-reading.)
Also, “Harry Palmer” is more of a man of action than the character in the book, who eschews violence. (Indeed, in the second novel in the series A HORSE UNDER WATER, there’s a classic scene where he bolts from an ambush that has left a close colleague dead. Later, he cautions his sometimes girlfriend at the office, that revenge isn’t his job. These sentiments just wouldn’t fly in today’s world of the fictional hero where inevitably everything’s “personal.”)
If “Harry Palmer” is the flipside of James Bond, than THE IPRCRESS FILE is the flipside of the first Bond films. Rather than richly exotic, this film is drab and somewhat washed-out looking. Its dreary, rain-soaked settings have more in common with the gritty kitchen-sink English filmmaking of the time than say, FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE. It’s an extraordinary credit to Ken Adams to realize he could go from creating the lush world of 007, to working in the thoroughly naturalist tones here. Similarly, John Barry supplies recognizably Bondian underscoring, but also lays on some cool jazz touches as well.
(While Bond may have enjoyed the lifestyle men of the time craved, “Harry Palmer” leads the life many a bachelor actually had, and this includes cooking his own meals in his cramped apartment. (Deighton himself was something of a gourmet and published a much-loved cookbook for bachelors in the 60s, and indeed, those are his hands slicing, dicing and cracking eggs in the film.))
The whole film is stylish, without ever being too self-consciously so. The director Sidney Furie composes his shots at odd angles, with the characters often partly obscured or sharing the frame with objects that take up most of the image. He seems to be paying homage to Carol Reed’s work on THE THIRD MAN. (Barry’s score makes canny use of a zither as famously heard on that film’s score as well.) However, instead of war-torn Vienna, Furie’s characters are captured askew in dingy government offices or telephone booths. There’s one shot where Caine’s head seems to be resting amid the paperwork in his inbox.
The film works best in its early scenes, which wonderfully capture the sardonic flavor of the novel and its protagonist, perfectly embodied by Caine. Later, when the film turns its attention more to the plot, we lose that satirical edge and things get fairly conventional. We also have several long scenes without Caine and his presence is missed. Maybe as this was his first starring role, they didn’t realize the extent he would command the attention of audiences.
Perhaps the film’s biggest drawback is the fact that the climax revolves around the then hot-button paranoid fixation on mind control or “brainwashing.” (This type of thing turned up a fair amount in The Avengers.) The sequence feels more dated than the rest of the film. It also leads to a rather abrupt conclusion, where we don’t sufficiently reconnect with Palmer.
THE IPCRESS FILE works on it’s own terms as a thriller that may meander a bit, but is still engaging. While it may not hold up as well as the masterful source material, it’s a delicious relic of the period and the striking calling card of an actor who was to become one of the great screen stars of the next half-century.