I’ve been reading books by John le Carre’ for at least thirty years, and every six or seven years, I reread most of them. So when they make a movie of one of his books, I will be there to watch. But because Lecarre’ is notorious for slower, more dramatic and complex plots, the movie adaptations aren’t for everyone. His themes, however, are relevant and universal.

 Our Kind of Traitor, the most recent film, stars Evan MacGregor, Stellan Sarsgaard, and Naomi Harris. And once again, he pits the individual against a much larger and more powerful system. In this case, a hipster British couple are drawn into the “Vor,” the Russian brotherhood of thieves: the ones whose very stark and illicit histories are recounted on their tattooed bodies.

As with the TV adaptation of The Night Manager, the story was written long enough ago that the directors or producers made minor changes to bring it up to date from the book setting or context. No complaints here.

The couple (MacGregor and Harris) find themselves chosen by Dima (Sarsgaard) to act as couriers to British intelligence. Dima is a Vor member and a major player in Russian money laundering: billions in dirty money that might otherwise pay for irredeemable sin–except that in the right hands it can buy official indulgences.

Espionage stories are dark; they trade in betrayal. You can’t simply call them noir and pretend that it’s tongue-in-cheek.  Imagine a retelling of The Hobbit where most of the dwarves get dismembered and you have a sense of what you’re in for.

I’m not saying it’s a depressing film, but like cop movies and war movies, an espionage film tests peoples’ resolve as they try to act as humans in the face of inhumanity; you have to hang on until the inspiration comes.

LeCarre’ even shows up in this film, though it’s only a cameo where he plays a ticket collector on the metro. I might have been the only person in the theater who recognized him; writers find it easier to walk among us unrecognized, but for me his cover was blown decades ago.

WH