You can tell I’m talking about the movie because the book puts commas between the words and the movie doesn’t.

My mother is a big fan of the Smiley novels and finally convinced me to read them. I’ve been excited since I heard the movie was coming out – at least once I’d established it had a talented director and an all star cast.

You can’t really compare it to the old Alec Guiness BBC miniseries. This movie is, after all, something like 40% as long as that production.

And they are playing the role in significantly different ways.

LeCarré characterizations in the novel had a certain cold distance to it. While clearly delineated, that distance does allow for some leeway in how an actor could play folks.

Guiness’ Smiley had a certain goofy, cherubic, and avuncular charm to go with his piercing intelligence and wounded soul.

Gary Oldman gives, beyond a doubt, the quietest performance of his entire career. In fact, he barely has any lines. And when not speaking, his expression is so tightly controlled that you find yourself intimidated, even as you try and ferret out what he’s thinking or feeling. This is a cold, dangerous Smiley. He’s still a physically unimpressive specimen – looking very old and even a little feeble. But, without giving anything away, never has an old man awkwardly taking off his shoes looked quite so frightening. It’s not a capacity for violence, but the capacity to see violence done.

Because it’s the small details help keep the plot moving at a surprisingly quick pace, while keeping the attentive viewer abreast of what was happening. Taking off shoes, unwrapping a mint, going for a swim. The little things.

In a stylistically telling note, while Smiley’s wife, Anne, appear in the BBC version, in this movie, she expresses herself as absence, seen only in short glimpses from obstructed angles. We never see her face. This both enables to movie to stay concise and also fits the style of this particular Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and this particular Smiley.