NO John le Carré novel had been adapted for the stage until Chichester Festival Theatre took on the challenge of 1963’s The Spy Who Came In From The Cold in August 2024.
Film, yes, television series, yes, but the stage: the question is why not? Especially when psychological thrillers work just as well in a theatrical setting. Thankfully adaptor David Eldridge and director Jeremy Herrin, in tandem with production designer Max Jones, grabbed the elusive bull by the horns, their smart, slick and stylish Chichester premiere being followed by a West End bow at @sohoplace and now a nationwide tour.
A bicycle rests on its side centre stage, the front wheel still spinning, never stopping, defying Newton’s Laws of Motion, as Wednesday’s matinee audience gathers.
This symbol of wheels constantly turning, nothing ever settling, encapsulates the clandestine, claustrophobic world of Cold War espionage, deception and moral compromise, machination and manipulation. How can you trust anyone when you can’t even trust your eyes?!
Enter Ralf Little, late of The Royal Family and Death In Paradise, charged with the large task of following in the footsteps of Richard Burton in Martin Ritt’s 1965 film as burnt-out, disillusioned British intelligence agent Alec Leamas.
Drinking too heavily, smoking prodigiously, never seeing his children, Leamas is ready to “come in from the cold” in October 1961, a hollow shell of an outcast at 45. However, a combination of the Control (the immaculate, inscrutable Nicholas Murchie) and supposedly retired veteran spymaster George Smiley (Tony Turner), hovering ominously in the shadows of the stage and Leamas’s mind alike, persuades him to take on one final mission.
He must infiltrate East German intelligence in Berlin, giving him the chance to avenge his nemesis, the taciturn, cynical Nazi-turned-Communist agent Hans-Dieter Mundt (Peter Losasso), after his East German contact, Riemeck (Jonny Burman), is taken out.
Berlin is now divided by the Berlin Wall that looms large over Max Jones’s black-box design, with its steps to a mezzanine level, where Turner’s Smiley makes his entrances, like King Hamlet’s ghost, until taking centre stage late on, when taking over the narrator’s role from Little’s Leamas.
The floor is covered by a huge red map of Cold War Europe, Berlin West and East at its epicentre. Tables and chairs are forever being moved on and off the otherwise bare expanse of stage, where Azusa Ono’s lighting designs – often red and green, rather than the usual cold, disorientating blue – take on greater emotional significance and impact.
Into the plot are woven The Circus, Fiedler (Eddie Toll), the ideological, Jewish, Stalinist deputy director of the East German intelligence service, and librarian Liz Gold (Grainne Dromgoole), the naive young Communist Party activist, Leamas’s unforeseen love interest – the one element Smiley and the British Intelligence overlords had not calculated would influence Leamas’s actions.
Come the interval, Little’s exasperated, exhausted Leamas is calling both the ever-concealing Control and Smiley “liars”. No-one can indeed be trusted in this oppressive, suppressive quagmire of double crossing, deceit and dubious morals, where the end result is all that matters and Leamas is nothing more than a paranoid pawn in the chess set of espionage.
After first reading le Carré’s novel at 16, its chilling Cold War story and lead character had stayed with Little ever since. Now, 30 years on, he invests an assiduous sense of duty into Leamas, who is increasingly rueful and a loose cannon too, prone to sporadic outbursts of humorous theatricality and rising risk-taking to stay alive. Above all, the combination of Eldridge’s writing and Little’s intense performance conveys Leamas’s inner thoughts through haunted monologues in the tradition of Hamlet and Macbeth.
The murky miasma of spying in John le Carré’s books makes Alec Leamas poles apart from Ian Fleming’s secret agent James Bond. His world is no less dangerous and lonely, but drudgery and skulduggery prevail without the glamour and desirable locations.
Outwardly, Eldridge and Herrin’s noir thriller is a period piece, but as the ice forms on a new, 21st century Cold War, The Spy Who Came In From The Cold may well have to come in from the cold again.
Second Half Productions and The Ink Factory present Chichester Festival Theatre in John le Carré’s The Spy Who Came In From The Cold, Grand Opera House, York, until June 13, 7.30pm plus 2.30pm Saturday matinee. Box office: atgtickets.com/york.