Based on Francis Clifford's novel of the same name, The Naked Runner is an obscure but creditable thriller, and a rarely seen entry in Frank Sinatra's filmography.
To discuss the plot would be to spoil it so I won't do that. Suffice to say, furniture designer Sam Laker is pressured by a friend working for British Intelligence into doing a job in Leipzig to help an old wartime flame... but nothing is as it seems once he reaches East Germany. At that point we are firmly on Le Carre territory, with cross following double cross all the way to the end. And it is the end that is the problem; it cannot carry the weight of everything that has passed before.
The reasons for this are fairly obvious: firstly, in the novel, the reader is as oblivious as Laker as to what is going on and greets every new plot twist with a frustration and incomprehension that Laker shares. This serves to heighten suspense at every level, and Laker's character becomes a fascinating comparison exercise with our own reactions as a reader. The writer of the film, Stanley Mann, chose to place the viewer firmly on the other side of the plot - so we know what is happening to Laker, and why. This serves to undermine him as a character, making him appear hapless, transient, and surly; that Sinatra plays him as such reflects, I think, that he understood as a performer that a narrative mistake had been made. Secondly, the ending is abrupt; indeed Laker's exclusion, you might almost say his quarantine, from the plot is solved by precisely five seconds of hurried dialogue over the end credits of the movie. This is a serious error of judgment that leaves the viewer with a profound sense of disappointment, which is why I've titled this review The Non-Nude Runner: I felt a little robbed.
Apart from the botched ending it is an entertaining yarn. There are excellent performances by Peter Vaughn and Derren Nesbitt. Sinatra is very good too - his performance is low-key and it's obvious he had carefully studied the textbook performance for this kind of role; that of Richard Burton in The Spy Who Came In From The Cold.
Recommended for fans of Sinatra, and followers of cold war thrillers. But make sure you read the book - it's excellent.
To discuss the plot would be to spoil it so I won't do that. Suffice to say, furniture designer Sam Laker is pressured by a friend working for British Intelligence into doing a job in Leipzig to help an old wartime flame... but nothing is as it seems once he reaches East Germany. At that point we are firmly on Le Carre territory, with cross following double cross all the way to the end. And it is the end that is the problem; it cannot carry the weight of everything that has passed before.
The reasons for this are fairly obvious: firstly, in the novel, the reader is as oblivious as Laker as to what is going on and greets every new plot twist with a frustration and incomprehension that Laker shares. This serves to heighten suspense at every level, and Laker's character becomes a fascinating comparison exercise with our own reactions as a reader. The writer of the film, Stanley Mann, chose to place the viewer firmly on the other side of the plot - so we know what is happening to Laker, and why. This serves to undermine him as a character, making him appear hapless, transient, and surly; that Sinatra plays him as such reflects, I think, that he understood as a performer that a narrative mistake had been made. Secondly, the ending is abrupt; indeed Laker's exclusion, you might almost say his quarantine, from the plot is solved by precisely five seconds of hurried dialogue over the end credits of the movie. This is a serious error of judgment that leaves the viewer with a profound sense of disappointment, which is why I've titled this review The Non-Nude Runner: I felt a little robbed.
Apart from the botched ending it is an entertaining yarn. There are excellent performances by Peter Vaughn and Derren Nesbitt. Sinatra is very good too - his performance is low-key and it's obvious he had carefully studied the textbook performance for this kind of role; that of Richard Burton in The Spy Who Came In From The Cold.
Recommended for fans of Sinatra, and followers of cold war thrillers. But make sure you read the book - it's excellent.