Greene's novel is reduced to a commonplace, wooden, largely flatly acted anecdote. Morley's sinister performance is an exception, but even Morley is unable to impart a little life and leaven to a film that is, yes, intended to take away some of the meretricious glamour of most films in this genre, but the fact that life in the spying business must be a bit of a bore, and the people in it largely pathological, does not excuse making a boring film about it. Iman's performance is wooden and uncomprehending almost to the point of comedy. The pathos intrinsic to the material as conceived by Greene is utterly absent from this film; as you reflect on it after the film grinds to a thoroughly awkward halt, you see how much might have been done with it, and how little actually was. Critics are reluctant to trash a movie whose director, writer, actors, etc. have done brilliant work in the past, but this is a film saved from being thoroughly bad by a few striking moments. Read the book instead.
Review of The Human Factor
