Languid, some might say ponderous mid-60's British-made cold-war drama (it could scarcely be called a thriller, more "The Spy Who Came In From The Cold" than, say "Thunderball") that for all its longueurs, does have some redeeming features. These include another superior soundtrack by John Barry, if perhaps a little too much son-of "The Ipcress File", some fine real-life (West) Berlin exteriors, particularly of the Olympic Stadium with its evocation of 1936 and all that and Harold Pinter's typically rhythmic, if at times inscrutable screenplay. George Segal, plays the edgy American-abroad new CI5 recruit (looking unnervingly at times like a young George W Bush!) before he started doing "genial" and reminds us that his previous part was in the heavyweight "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf". Try as he might though, he can't quite carry the lead here, lacking as he does the magnetism of Connery or the cynicism of Caine. Alec Guinness gets to play a Smiley prototype but brings too much Noel Coward to the table. Max Van Sydow is better as the neo-Nazi leader, veiled by the veneer of respectability as he cracks his knuckles and swings a golf club all the time he's injecting Segal with massive doses of truth serum, while Senta Berger is pleasant, but slight, as the pretty young teacher who apparently leads our man initially to the "other side", but whose escape at the end from capture and certain death at the hands of the "baddies" might lead one to suspect her true proclivities. The movie wants to be more Le Carre than Fleming (the nods to the latter fall flat with a couple of fairly underpowered car-chases and a very unconvincing fight scene when Segal first tries to escape his captors) but fails to make up in suspense what it obviously lacks in thrills. I also expected just a little more from the interrogation scenes from the man who wrote "The Birthday Party". Watchable and intriguing as it occasionally is, enigmatic is perhaps the most apposite adjective you could use to describe the "action" within. In conclusion, having recently watched "Quiller's" almost exact contemporary "The Ipcress File", I have to say that I preferred the latter's more pointed narrative, down-home grittiness and star acting to the similar fare offered here.
