For a writer as renowned as Ken Follett, it’s hard to believe there’s been only one actual cinematic adaptation of his works to date. There have been several notable miniseries and television films of his novels over the past several decades, but it is Richard Marquand’s 1981 treatment Eye of the Needle which stands as the solo theatrical mounting. A superb psychological portrait of a psychopath, it’s a delectable mixture of perverted romance, WWII espionage, and survival thriller, perhaps the best cinematic antidote to the celebrated propaganda film, Mrs. Miniver (1945). Featuring Donald Sutherland at his most insidious as a German spy stuck on a desolate island and desperate to relay devastating information about D-Day to his comrades, the film is also a testament to the significant talents of Kate Nelligan, an actor whose accomplishments should be better remembered and acknowledged than they are.
Lofty German spy Heinrich Faber aka the Needle (Sutherland) fell off the radar in 1938, but he has suddenly reappeared in England. The police are aware of his presence, and know the Needle (so named for his method of killing) has discovered their ruse to fool the Germans by using fake plywood planes to lure them off track for their secret coordinates of the D-Day invasion. Desperate to communicate this information with home base, the Needle is thwarted by authorities and chased into a boat during a roiling storm, eventually wrecked on the shores of Scotland’s isolated Storm Island. There, the desolate area is occupied by a bitter, crippled man (Christopher Cazenove) and his lonely wife Lucy (Kate Nelligan), who focuses on raising their young son while trying to figure out how to best help her depressed husband. They offer shelter to the shipwrecked man, who they assume is a lost sailor, but things get complicated when Faber acts on the attraction he feels for the lonely woman, while the island’s only other occupant, a drunken lighthouse keeper, has a radio in his home which the Needle must get to so he can rendezvous with the German submarine not far off the coast.
Interestingly, Richard Marquand only made seven film features during his three decades working as a director. Beginning in television during the early 60s and throughout most of the 1970s (including an adaptation of Edward II starring Ian McKellan in 1970), Marquand made his feature debut with an archaic B-genre film, The Legacy (1978), before moving on to a film about The Beatles, and, most notably the Star Wars entry Return of the Jedi (1983). Oscar nominated scribe Stanley Mann (Wyler’s The Collector), seems a perfect fit for adapting this character driven genre piece from Follett, given his work on Damien: Omen II (1978) and the film version of Stephen King’s Firestarter (1984). Often, this evokes the venturesome war time grey zones of early Hitchcock thrillers, like The 39 Steps, or Foreign Correspondent, and even more obscure items like Fritz Lang’s Ministry of Fear, or Jacques Tourneur’s Berlin Express.
Donald Sutherland, fresh off Oscar winning Ordinary People (1980) was no stranger to villainous archetypes by this time in his career, such as recent turns as an IRA vigilante in The Eagle Has Landed (1976), or as a contract killer in the less well remembered The Disappearance (1977). But his turn as Heinrich Faber, the vicious Needle (he’s incredibly practiced with ramming a stiletto into his victims) ranks as one his most dastard personifications. But what makes this simplistic narrative so potent is the striking human component swirling underneath the surface of DP Alan Hume’s gloomy coastal homestead. Sutherland plays his Nazi spy like a methodical, grimly determined agent who is otherwise passionless about his mission–not an enthusiastic murderer, but never flinching from the requirements of staying covert. A grim but fantastically staged murder sequence where the Needle must fling someone off a Scottish cliff recalls a dark, extended comedic murder sequence from Hitchcock’s Torn Curtain (1966).
But as compelling as Sutherland is, who reveals subtle elements of his personality with impressive finesse, Kate Nelligan steals the show as an unhappily married housewife isolated on a Scottish island with a legless husband who has eschewed their love for the comfort of the bottle. Her early sequences with Sutherland, wherein she responds to his kindness and their characters open up unexpectedly prior to inevitable sexual congress, are surprisingly moving for an espionage thriller. Later, as Nelligan’s Lucy wises up to the situation, she is forced to feign attraction to him despite some devastating knowledge. What transpires is a dramatic face-off with Nelligan commanding the screen as a fascinating and resolutely resourceful woman against Sutherland’s equally emotionally mixed spy.
Disc Review:
Twilight Time, once again resurrecting a fantastically underrated vintage film, presents Eye of the Needle in 1.85:1 with 1.0 DTS-HD audio, enhancing a phenomenal score from legendary composer Miklos Rozsa (like all of the label’s limited edition units, the score is available as an isolated track). Additionally, audio commentary with music historian Jon Burlingame and film historians Julie Kirgo and Nick Redman are available.
Final Thoughts:
Wonderfully understated with strong performances, solid script, and phenomenal score, Eye of the Needle rivals earlier industry era espionage thrillers often featuring more labyrinthine plots and clandestine characters. And it also features a young, striking Kate Nelligan in one of her most notable appearances on screen.
Film Review: ★★★★/☆☆☆☆☆
Disc Review: ★★★★/☆☆☆☆☆