The 1960s in terms of cinema were defined by a few elements, but one of the more prominent when it comes to the stories that gripped audiences was the collective obsession with spy films. We can probably attribute this to Ian Fleming, who created arguably the greatest spy in the history of literature – but I’ve always found, as endearing and fascinating a character like James Bond may be, many other compelling characters far exceed him in terms of complexity, both in their construction and the stories in which they appear. I have always found Harry Palmer to be the more enticing of the major literary spies that came about around this time, with the more rugged, less-polished Cockney secret agent created by Len Deighton having a lot of merits that were absent in the sometimes over-written Bond, who seemed to exist more as a concept than as an individual, which has always been my issue with the character over its existence. However, the comparison does very little in terms of offering strong insights, so we can at least say that Palmer is a character that deserves as much attention – and while he is more obscure (having far fewer of his stories adapted to the screen, whether from Deighton’s original novels or original works featuring the character), there is quite an impressive set of films that feature the character. Most would probably recall the exceptional The Ipcress File, in which he works his way through a few European cities, and which was a massively successful work in itself. However, the more intriguing work on a thematic and historical level is Funeral in Berlin, the direct follow-up, in which Palmer is tasked with helping a Russian military official defect from the Soviet Union, only to realize this supposedly simple plot is far from as straightforward as it would seem in theory. A thrilling and captivating spy drama that has a strong focus on both the narrative and visual channels, and overall just a truly compelling entry into a genre that was reaching its peak around this time, with this proving to be one of the stronger efforts.

If anyone knew how to make a solid spy film, it would be Guy Hamilton – he crafted a strong niche for himself as someone who could take these complex, twisted narratives and turn them into compelling films that never feel convoluted, but still have that distinctive sense of layered intrigue that drives a solid espionage thriller. Hamilton directed several James Bond films (including landmark entries such as Goldfinger and The Man with the Golden Gun), so any accusation that these Harry Palmer films were intended to distract or surpass the more notable franchise is false since both could exist in harmony, especially since they’re dealing with such radically different ideas and concepts, making them almost symbiotic in a way. He inherits Palmer from Sidney J. Furie, who directed him previously (and Hamilton himself would then pass the character over to the terrific Ken Russell the following year in the character’s final outing during this period, Billion Dollar Brain), and he proves that he can adapt to an entirely new character with as much dedication as he did when crafting the Bond films. The key component of these films (and something that has seemingly gotten lost in recent years, as the genre has been revisited and once again become incredibly successful) is the simplicity – the plots themselves are filled with detail and complexity, but this doesn’t necessarily warrant the film adaptations to be confusing or overly dense in terms of their plots. If anything, being able to take these novels and put them on screen should make them even more accessible, since there is an opportunity to visually represent these daring activities, as well as capture the specific locales that are always very important to spy films. Funeral in Berlin is one of the more successful when it comes to being a very traditional espionage potboiler since it takes a few very simple concepts (separate from Deighton’s original novel) and turns them into a rivetting, compelling spy drama that keeps us engaged, while never going too far in terms of exposition or overly impenetrable.

Few actors define the 1960s quite as well as Michael Caine, who may have done terrific work in the subsequent years, but his rise to fame will always be the most fascinating part of his career. He built his reputation out of playing unconventional leading men, characters who were morally ambigious and perhaps even slightly sinister, but yet always shown as so charming and compelling, which is all attributed to Caine’s incredible talents and penchant for challenging roles. Harry Palmer seems to have been tailor-made for his sensibilities since the valiant but conflicted anti-hero has many of the traits that Caine frequently used as the source of some of his iconic characters. This is not his signature role (although they were aiming to have this be the case – he is ultimately far too interesting an actor to be restricted to one kind of character, especially one that was being courted as a recurring figure in a bigger franchise), but many elements of Caine’s persona were defined by his performance here. Sardonic but very dedicated to his job, Palmer is a fascinating figure, and considering this story is as much about the supporting cast of characters as it is about Palmer himself, Caine very smartly knows when to step into the spotlight, and when to recede into the background to allow the other actors (which include fantastic work from the likes of Paul Hubschmid and Oskar Homolka) to have their moment. Funeral in Berlin is a film pieced together from small narrative fragments that don’t always appear clearly at first, and they often use the actors as vessels to bring these stories to the screen, so this film needed to have a strong cast to manifest many of the more challenging ideas and concepts that are defining to the narrative.

The spy genre has become far too overly serious, and we often find that it loses many of the purely entertaining elements that used to be very dominant in the genre when it was at its original peak. Funeral in Berlin is the perfect example of an espionage thriller that can be fun without necessarily leaning towards the comedy, with a few well-placed instances of humour helping cut the tension, but not distract from it. Hamilton was a very strong filmmaker, and as a result of his impeccable style, and ability to be very creative with certain elements of both the visual and narrative content, he crafted a deeply enjoyable spy thriller that hits all the notes that are important to the genre, and the reason why many hold this era in such high esteem. There are numerous moving parts throughout this film, and a lot of the film requires the audience to suspend disbelief (especially as it heads towards the conclusion) since realism was not a particularly important aspect of this film or the genre in which it was made – it has its relevance, but the most important aspect was to tell this story in a swift, meaningful manner without having to rely too heavily on additional details that do nothing outside of complicating the proceedings. However, the film does contain quite a significant element of historical context, which sets the stage for the events that are to transpire – it’s not the most accurate in portraying the conflict between the Soviet Union and those fighting against the spread of communism (and it does take many liberties, some of them more implausible than others), but it does inspire enough intrigue and establishes a very strong atmosphere, from which the film is very effectively able to riff on a few real-world ideas, which intermingle with the thrilling plot that envelopes most of the story. The blend of action with brief interludes of humour and romance only strengthens the film and makes Funeral in Berlin one of the more memorable entries into this genre.

There is a lot of fun to be had with Funeral in Berlin, which has the prime intention of being an entertaining, compelling spy thriller that keeps us guessing. The plot may sometimes be slightly predictable, and there are perhaps one too many twists, which adds an unnecessary layer of complexity (especially when it brings up plot points that are never resolved, or have a very slight conclusion done to tie up the loose ends), but it ultimately has more strengths than it does shortcomings, which is always the most important aspect of a film designed to exist within a genre as wide and expansive as this. There is a great deal of value in seeing how the film takes something as broad as the division of Berlin, and condenses it into a single consistent narrative, which is filled with complexity, but not in a way that leads to too much confusion. There was a lot of potential in this story, and it may sometimes fall slightly short in certain areas, but this is all ultimately trivial – this is not a film that needed to be thorough in historical accuracy or have more meaning than it perhaps required. Instead, it needed to offer an abundance of thrilling scenarios, action-packed sequences and strong characterization (with the cast deserving a lot of credit for bringing these characters to life), and it seems like it achieves it without any hesitation. There’s so much to admire about this film, and even if we just want to view it as a solidly made spy thriller more than anything else, we can find merit in every frame. Thrilling and exciting in the ways we’d expect, and with added elements of intrigue and historical complexity, Funeral in Berlin is as much as a film of this nature can get, which is quite an achievement in itself, and proof that some of the best genre films are those slightly off the beaten track.