Farewell (or L'affaire Farewell) is a middling spy story based on true events. That isn't always quite enough. The events are, so we're told, very important. During the early days of the Reagan administration a KGB officer called Sergei Gregoriev (Emir Kusturica), who was thoroughly disappointed in Russian communism as administered by Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev, took it upon himself to reveal extensive secrets about both the Soviet spy networks and the western secrets they had gathered, particularly about the Russians' big Cold War enemy, the USA. Because he had spent several happy years in Paris, he chose as his conduit for these revelations a young French engineer living in Moscow, one Pierre Froment (Guillaume Canet).
If only John Le Carré had had a hand in the telling of this story, though it's hard to see what even he could have done with events that, however momentous in theory, in practice were so banal. Neither Gregoriev nor Froment has any personal secrets worth delving into. Both have trouble with their wives. Froment's has an inkling that he's doing something dangerous of a cloak-and-dagger sort and nags him about it. Canet is a decent-looking young man with a beard; the self-consciously "period" over-large glasses look good on him, but he's about as distinctive as last year's GQ model. As for Gregoriev, he's got a lukewarm relationship with a gauche mistress. The most exciting thing that happens is that she worms her way into his apartment to buy something just so she can snatch a look at how he lives and what his wife and teenage son look like. She grabs a kiss when the wife isn't looking, but the son sees. This gives the son a thoroughly modern teenager's advantage on his dad.
What would Le Carré do with the way the state secrets are passed over? Gregoriev, in what turns out to be a goofy kind of genius, completely ignores espionage methods and simply meets with Froment in his car and gives him big thick files. Reagan gets wind of these revelations, and powers that be, both in France and, reluctantly, on Reagan's side begin to take a keen interest. The Great Communicator, broadly impersonated by Fred Ward (a good joke, for a minute anyway) as a great fan of his own old films -- recognizes that this is an unprecedented flow of information. Reagan is very wary of dealing with a socialist French president (François Mitterand), but he has to hold his nose and cooperate. The intelligence people of both countries get Froment to give Gregoriev a Minox spy camera so he can deliver films instead of wads of paper. Froment leans to be nice to the soldiers assigned to watch him and the dumpy informer who is his wife's housekeeper, and, since he is a person of no interest, nobody is really watching him closely. So Gregoriev's unorthodox and very ordinary method of passing on secrets works. But it isn't interesting. Not much is shown of how Froment passes on to higher ups what he gets from Gregoriev (isn't there any danger?). Neither the slouchy, baggy-eyed Kusturica nor the pert, mildly nice-looking Canet is cool to watch. We have to be content with such mildly amusing tidbits as the fact that in asking for trophies for his son, Gregoriev thinks "Keen" is the name of the famous English rock group, and that the new portable music player is a "Johnny Walkman." Ha ha.
All the scenes of secret-trading are in broad daylight; not even so much as an underground garage. It actually happens in Moscow, and though the cinematography isn't interesting, it does show the Moscow subway system and plenty of Stalinist wedding cake buildings. Did we say the cinematography isn't interesting? Fred Ward's Reagan isn't really broad (or observant) enough, and Willem Dafoe's CIA chief isn't officious or sleazy enough. One winds up wishing neither of them had gotten involved in this lackluster project.
The whole story is one of unrelieved tedium for the first hour of the film, until finally Gregoriev gets captured and Froment realizes he and his family have got to get out of Moscow fast. There's a little tension at the Finland border. Gregoriev's incarceration and torture carry no tension: they're stylized and whited-out instead of dark (never underestimate the value of darkness in spy stories). There's a bit of drama between the battered Gregoriev and his wife and son. Time that might have been spent developing these characters (if they are in fact interesting) is lost with scenes about the pair's French, American, and Russian handlers and brief but unrevealing glimpses of Gregoriev's workplace. A few brief scenes of the great Niels Arestrup as an official of French domestic intelligence gives one a glimpse of some class. If only Kusturica's role had been assigned to someone as fascinating to watch as Arestrup.
The reason why this story isn't so well known is the US authorities did not want to reveal all Russians knew. "Farewell" and Star Wars coincide with the decline of the Soviet empire, but you can hear the air going out of the whole Cold War process, an event that Le Carré has been tackling (with considerable ingenuity and invention) ever since. But Christian Carion, Serguei Kostine whose book Bonjour Farewell was the original source, and Eric Raynaud, who all collaborated on writing this film, aren't qualified to pen the dedication of a John Le Carré novel.
If the idea of major Russian and American secrets being passed to a young Frenchman in the Reagan era under a socialist French president floats your boat this is the movie for you. Just don't expect emotion, sharp dialogue, muscle, suspense, or excitement. Mostly in French but with scenes in English and Russian.
L'affaire Farewell opened in Paris September 23 and received moderately good reviews, with some pretty damning ones. Shown as part of the Rendez-Vous with French Cinema in New York in March 2010.
If only John Le Carré had had a hand in the telling of this story, though it's hard to see what even he could have done with events that, however momentous in theory, in practice were so banal. Neither Gregoriev nor Froment has any personal secrets worth delving into. Both have trouble with their wives. Froment's has an inkling that he's doing something dangerous of a cloak-and-dagger sort and nags him about it. Canet is a decent-looking young man with a beard; the self-consciously "period" over-large glasses look good on him, but he's about as distinctive as last year's GQ model. As for Gregoriev, he's got a lukewarm relationship with a gauche mistress. The most exciting thing that happens is that she worms her way into his apartment to buy something just so she can snatch a look at how he lives and what his wife and teenage son look like. She grabs a kiss when the wife isn't looking, but the son sees. This gives the son a thoroughly modern teenager's advantage on his dad.
What would Le Carré do with the way the state secrets are passed over? Gregoriev, in what turns out to be a goofy kind of genius, completely ignores espionage methods and simply meets with Froment in his car and gives him big thick files. Reagan gets wind of these revelations, and powers that be, both in France and, reluctantly, on Reagan's side begin to take a keen interest. The Great Communicator, broadly impersonated by Fred Ward (a good joke, for a minute anyway) as a great fan of his own old films -- recognizes that this is an unprecedented flow of information. Reagan is very wary of dealing with a socialist French president (François Mitterand), but he has to hold his nose and cooperate. The intelligence people of both countries get Froment to give Gregoriev a Minox spy camera so he can deliver films instead of wads of paper. Froment leans to be nice to the soldiers assigned to watch him and the dumpy informer who is his wife's housekeeper, and, since he is a person of no interest, nobody is really watching him closely. So Gregoriev's unorthodox and very ordinary method of passing on secrets works. But it isn't interesting. Not much is shown of how Froment passes on to higher ups what he gets from Gregoriev (isn't there any danger?). Neither the slouchy, baggy-eyed Kusturica nor the pert, mildly nice-looking Canet is cool to watch. We have to be content with such mildly amusing tidbits as the fact that in asking for trophies for his son, Gregoriev thinks "Keen" is the name of the famous English rock group, and that the new portable music player is a "Johnny Walkman." Ha ha.
All the scenes of secret-trading are in broad daylight; not even so much as an underground garage. It actually happens in Moscow, and though the cinematography isn't interesting, it does show the Moscow subway system and plenty of Stalinist wedding cake buildings. Did we say the cinematography isn't interesting? Fred Ward's Reagan isn't really broad (or observant) enough, and Willem Dafoe's CIA chief isn't officious or sleazy enough. One winds up wishing neither of them had gotten involved in this lackluster project.
The whole story is one of unrelieved tedium for the first hour of the film, until finally Gregoriev gets captured and Froment realizes he and his family have got to get out of Moscow fast. There's a little tension at the Finland border. Gregoriev's incarceration and torture carry no tension: they're stylized and whited-out instead of dark (never underestimate the value of darkness in spy stories). There's a bit of drama between the battered Gregoriev and his wife and son. Time that might have been spent developing these characters (if they are in fact interesting) is lost with scenes about the pair's French, American, and Russian handlers and brief but unrevealing glimpses of Gregoriev's workplace. A few brief scenes of the great Niels Arestrup as an official of French domestic intelligence gives one a glimpse of some class. If only Kusturica's role had been assigned to someone as fascinating to watch as Arestrup.
The reason why this story isn't so well known is the US authorities did not want to reveal all Russians knew. "Farewell" and Star Wars coincide with the decline of the Soviet empire, but you can hear the air going out of the whole Cold War process, an event that Le Carré has been tackling (with considerable ingenuity and invention) ever since. But Christian Carion, Serguei Kostine whose book Bonjour Farewell was the original source, and Eric Raynaud, who all collaborated on writing this film, aren't qualified to pen the dedication of a John Le Carré novel.
If the idea of major Russian and American secrets being passed to a young Frenchman in the Reagan era under a socialist French president floats your boat this is the movie for you. Just don't expect emotion, sharp dialogue, muscle, suspense, or excitement. Mostly in French but with scenes in English and Russian.
L'affaire Farewell opened in Paris September 23 and received moderately good reviews, with some pretty damning ones. Shown as part of the Rendez-Vous with French Cinema in New York in March 2010.