Spans six decades as le Carré gives his final and most personal interview, interrupted with rare archival footage and dramatic anecdotes. It is set against the stormy Cold War backdrop that extends into the present day.
Chuck says:
Sage advice for any aspiring author is to “write what you know.” Former spy David Cornwell obviously took this to heart as he began writing a series of highly successful espionage novels under the pen name John Le Carre. His experiences provided a sense of realism to a genre whose readers were used to the fantastic world of James Bond. “The Spy Who Came in From the Cold,” “Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy” and others put a real-world face on this world, Cornwell’s first-hand knowledge grounding these stories, making his work distinctive in a world of 007 knockoffs.
Errol Morris’ fascinating documentary “The Pigeon Tunnel” is composed of a series of interviews the filmmaker had with Cornwell before his death in 2020 and what develops is much more than a succession of question-and-answer sessions. Having learned from an early age to always maintain a façade to hide your true nature, it becomes obvious that what Cornwell doesn’t say is at times more important than what he does. Morris becomes aware of this as well and what develops is a sort of cat-and-mouse game in which the filmmaker attempts to discover Cornwell’s true nature while his subject deftly tries to brush aside his probing queries.
While his literary career is covered, his novels prove to be just that – a cover of the author’s true character which was put to good use in the field of British intelligence. We learn that Cornwell’s father Ronnie was a fraud, a man who rubbed elbows with the members of England’s high society but didn’t have a cent to his name. Yet, he always maintained the appearance of having riches, enjoying the high life at every opportunity. Cornwell recounts that the truth was never spoken of, that the entire family knew to maintain appearances and not question the reality of their situation.
This quality proves to be valuable when fate thrusts Cornwell into the world of MI-6, as he was quite adept at hiding in plain sight when necessary and not tipping his hand when in possession of valuable information. However, having known his father and aware of his own tendencies, Cornwell becomes suspicious of all his colleagues, aware that if he is hiding his true nature, they must be as well.
Cornwell’s suspicions prove true at times, as he and Morris delve into the case of Kim Philby, a superior of his who was revealed as a Soviet spy and defected in the late 60’s. Though initially duped by him, Cornwell admits there was something amiss and he becomes, it that’s possible, even more guarded than before.
Morris weaves these conversations together with recreations of the events Cornwell relates, at times intercutting them with clips from various adaptations of his novels, showing how they mirror one another. The most arresting moment takes place when we’re shown what the pigeon tunnel is, something that needs to be seen to be appreciated. Long story short, it’s a display of learned behavior that is repeated until the subject dies.
Of course, the final question is how much of what Cornwell is telling us is true? Obviously, there are some facts that can and are confirmed but the man himself remains a mystery. Perhaps all he has said is true and he simply planted a seed of doubt to make Morris question it. And that might be the point, as what emerges is a portrait of an incredibly guarded man, one who could never reveal his true thoughts or feelings through fear of vulnerability. This sort of emotional damage can’t help but prove poignant.
3 1/2 Stars
