For Mature Audiences

Rating: 9/10 (5 January 2012)

Yes, in the not too distant past Tomas Alfredson's film version of John Le Carre's engaging mystery-spy thriller would have certainly attained an "M" from the old ratings board, though not due to any overt displays of sexuality or nudity; and while there is one hilarious bit of profanity tossed out in the midst of the slow, icy grip of the plot developments, the language used by most of the characters in the film could hardly be described as "mature" in the pejorative sense.
No, the maturity of TINKER is indicated chiefly by the staid, stoic behavior of the indisputably adult figures who go about their business in their chosen profession and by the intricate, labyrinthine permutations of the unfolding tale. And the tale is set into motion by one objective: find the mole. Who is the spy (from the other side) who has been gathering information on the other spies (from our side?)? As depicted here the answer to the question does not come easy at all; finding the mole is painstaking, dangerous, even deadly work. This is James Bond for grown-ups; Mission: Impossible for (perhaps) the seriously middle- aged (though not exclusively). Pyrotechnic exhibitions and ingenious toys of destruction would serve little or no purpose in a film such as this. Indeed, as already pointed out by quite a few reviewers on this site, aficionados of the "high concept", low complexity, jump cut, action-driven school of filmmaking may find themselves searching for the exit door after the first thirty minutes or so of TINKER.
The audience is asked to attend and attend closely from the very outset and if there is bafflement in the viewers in determining who the mole is, there is equal bafflement among the characters in the film owing to the twists and turns and deceptions of the plot and the utter elusiveness of that slippery mole: the bafflement as well as the satisfying conclusion is well earned due to an excellent script, a tour de force of ensemble acting brilliance and superb direction.
Despite the very entertaining restraint of the characteristically volatile Gary Oldman (it was fun watching him rein in his energy and verve) the George Smiley on display here, though subdued in appearance and demeanor, cuts a more dashing figure than the bland cipher created in the novel and later portrayed with nondescript perfection by Alec Guinness in the 1979 television series. There were six hour long episodes in the television show and if memory serves the show was also a very engaging viewing experience; there was, naturally, far more time to delve into character and clarify (but not simplify) certain elements of the story.
Still, with a running time of just over two hours Alfredson achieves a wondrous compression of detailed information that, again, keeps you well engaged and yet gives the impression of a very sober, deliberate, unhurried immersion into a world apart, a world where trust is a rare commodity and where that close associate looking at you with cool yet friendly detachment from across the conference table may just be planning your imminent demise.