And Sundays: Weekend World with Brian Walden (always awash with politics, our house), Ski Sunday, The Money Programme (from an early age, honestly, I did - he'd mutter gruffly "watch this, you might actually learn something" - I hated it). He enjoyed spy thrillers, read le Carré, Len Deighton, Jack Higgins, Alistair MacLean. I clearly remember watching 'Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy' on Sunday evenings with him. That Alec Guinness was cast as George Smiley was heaven. Dad loved Ealing Comedy too, and both Kind Hearts and Coronets and The Ladykillers remain dear to me, thanks to him.
By George, he had it.
So, when I heard they were making a film of Tinker, Tailor..., I was thrilled and worried in equal parts. I mean - who else could possibly play Smiley? John le Carré had made it clear he thought Alec Guinness personified Smiley, even writing with Guinness's performance in mind in his later novels.
Gary Oldman. GARY OLDMAN???
Nothing Smiley about that.
Don't get me wrong. Ever since I saw Gary Oldman as Bex in Alan Clarke's The Firm, I've harboured a great big fat schoolgirl crush. Finding him completely believable as the well-dressed football-firm head thug (let's cross-reference with any slop containing Danny Dyer here, and see who comes up trumps), and watching him channel such intensity in his performance stuck with me. I hoped to see much more of this actor. Turned out that he'd really excel at doing nutter, Mr Oldman. Masterful at unhinged. Sid & Nancy, Leon, True Romance, Dracula - no romantic leads here, ta. But Smiley? Cool, calm, dispassionate Smiley?
So, lets cut to it. I've just absorbed an early evening showing at the Phoenix cinema in Finchley, mesmerised by the most beautiful production of John le Carré's superb book. Everything about the film of Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy was a joy. Stunning direction and cinematography. Superb casting (hats off to Jina Jay). A perfect colour palette and set dressing par excellence. Congratulations must go to the art director and production designer, who have created a piece of film-making that perfectly evokes the era. Peeling wallpaper, grubby streets, rusting window frames - every scene has a subdued grimness that transports the viewer right back to an era of strikes, austerity and Cold War paranoia. And Gary Oldman? Excellent. Self-contained, brooding, and held slightly more sex appeal for me, because there's no way I ever fancied a crack at Sir Alec.
I spy with my little eye...something beginning with 'brilliant'.
(Postscript 1: in memory of dear Dad, I downloaded (yup, my Luddite days are over, folks - I've actually gone and downloaded something off that Internet thing) the Alec Guinness Tinker Tailor onto my iPad. On returning from the Phoenix last night, I'm happy to report that I watched two small-screen episodes (it's surprisingly good for this sort of thing, the iPad) and they were excellent, completely stood the test of time. The opening credits of those Russian dolls transported me back, remembering my 12 year-old self in Yorkshire, the fug of that smoke-filled living room...and a daft bit of me likes to think my Dad was there last night, watching Sir Alec with me.)
(Postscript 2: Came within a hair's breadth of meeting Gary Oldman recently. The very lovely Hamish Brown was asked to photograph him for an article in Radio Times. The shoot took place at the Soho Hotel, where I hear Mr Oldman was charming and easy- going, and happy to do whatever was asked of him (and believe me, the glitterati aren't always this way). Sadly, no chance of me being spared from a busy office, which probably saved me from making a right gushing tit of myself. Lucky me, our Hamish has done a very kind thing and has gifted me a beautiful black and white shot to hang on my wall. There'll be swooning in my hallway most mornings from this point onwards.)
Sigh.
