Forgotten Films: The Deadly Affair

I found myself talking about this film on the Overnightscape Central podcast over at the Overnightscape Underground  the other day, so I thought it was about time I got around to covering it here as part of the 'Forgotten Films' thread.  The Deadly Affair is one of those films which, over the past couple of decades, seems to have slipped off the radar - I can't remember the last time it had a screening on TV and wasn't even mentioned as part of his body of work when it's director, Sidney Lumet, died.   Which seems grossly unfair.  A 1966 adaptation of John Le Carre's first published novel, Call For the Dead, it features a fine central performance from James Mason as George Smiley.  Except that, for legal reasons connected to the fact that the Smiley character - played by Rupert Davies - had appeared in Paramount's The Spy Who Came in From the Cold adaptation the previous year, (Deadly Affair was made for Columbia), the character had to be renamed Charles Dobbs.  Whatever the name, the character is still recognisably Smiley.  Younger than the Smiley of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy, as portrayed by Alec Guinness on TV and Gary Oldman on film, but still Smiley.

The film is a reasonably faithful adaptation of the original novel, although Paul Dehn's script makes a few changes in order to draw a closer parallel between the central relationships of the story.  As in the book, Dobbs/Smiley is working for the Security Service, security vetting senior civil servants and government officials.  He interviews Fennan, a Foreign Office official, after an anonymous letter accuses him of having once had communist sympathies.  Although Dobbs clears Fennan, the official later commits suicide.  With his department seeking to blame him and his supposedly heavy-handed approach for the death, Dobbs finds himself at odds with his superiors and, convinced that Fennan didn't kill himself, resigns and begins his own private investigation.  In parallel with these events, Dobbs is struggling with his own marriage.  His much younger wife has embarked on a series of affairs, which Dobbs - to her frustration - refuses to react to with anger, instead stoically accepting them. Mason's performance here is superb, conveying perfectly Dobbs' inability to properly express his feelings to his wife and to bring the passion he feels for his work to his marriage.  Indeed, the film features several fine performances, most notably Harry Andrews as Mendel, the retired Special Branch Inspector who assists Dobbs, frequently falling asleep at inopportune moments.

However, the plot and performances aren't what I love most about the film.  Rather, it is the snapshot of just pre-swinging London it presents.  Filmed in muted colour by cinematographer Freddie Young, it presents us with some fantastic vistas of 1960s London, effectively contrasting Dobbs' neat Pimilico environs with the working class streets of South London.  In particular, there are some fantastic point-of-view shots from Dobbs' car as he tries to shake off a vehicle he suspects is following him, driving at speed past rows of run down houses and shops.  There are also some great sequences filmed around a murky scrap yard close to the river and a local, truly grotty, pub.  Again, Mason's performance in these latter sequences, as Dobbs finds himself far out of his comfort zone, both professionally and socially, is highly effective.  The South London scenes are neatly contrasted with several sequences in Surrey, emphasising the neat primness of the middle class home counties houses and amateur theatrical companies.  Moreover, toward the film's climax, we are treated to an excursion into the tourist territory of central London, again a stark contrast with the South of the river scenes.  Interestingly, the central London section also includes a crucial scene at the theatre, where we get to glimpse the then current RSC production of Marlowe's Edward II (directed by Peter Hall) - look out for David Warner and Timothy West amongst the cast. 

Easily worthy of an hour and forty minutes of anyone's time, The Deadly Affair, apart from being a suspenseful and atmospheric espionage thriller, also gives us a fascinating insight into middle class life in 1960s Britain, just before all of its values were to be challenged by the 'swinging' part of the decade, with its examination of the personal lives of both Dobbs and Fennan.  In 1966 it was still possible to have a film with a middle-aged hero, before the cult of youth gripped popular culture.  Oh, and as if all this wasn't enough, the film also features a great score by Quincy Jones.  Go and buy the DVD.