By August 1978, Alec Guinness had become a grand old man of the stage, and had also acquired a new, huge (and unwanted) fan base for playing Ben Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars (1977). Guinness says that Harrison Ford referred to him as the ‘Mother Superior’, which was perhaps affectionately meant, as both Ford and Guinness shared a horror at the unspeakable (in every sense) script (Ford to director George Lucas: ‘George, you can write this shit, but you can’t say it’).
Guinness wanted to put Star Wars behind him. So when the writer of spy novels (and former spy) John le Carre discussed the televising of his novel Tinker, Tailor, Solider, Spy (1974), and made it plain to the BBC that only Alec Guinness could play George Smiley, the head of the secret service in the ‘Spy Wars’, the subsequent offer of the part was accepted. Guinness took the role despite complaining about the ‘passive’ nature of Smiley, and le Carre arranged to host a lunch for both Guinness and the former head of MI6, Sir Maurice Oldfield – claimed by some to be the model for both Smiley (le Carre denies this) and ‘M’ in the James Bond films.
Le Carre described Guinness and Oldfield as ‘cuddling up and I was an intrusion’. Guinness assumed that Oldfield was the raw material for Smiley, and studied the spy chief closely: ‘Liked him. A bit plumper and shorter than me. . .execrable tie, tatty shirt, good suit, flashy cufflinks and bright orange shoes. . . Le Carre says: ‘At the end of the lunch, Oldfield left and Guinness watched him go down the road. . . He then says, "Do they all wear those very vulgar cuff links?"‘
The Guinness characterisation of Smiley which emerged from the meeting ended up a blend of elements from both Oldfield (including the orange shoes and cuff links) and le Carre. Oldfield was an admirer of Guinness but why he agreed to the lunch – knowing Guinness would be studying him – is unclear. Oldfield’s spy career ended completely two years later amid murky allegations that he bought sex from boys. It is possible that he hoped the coming Guinness performance would somehow submerge the grubby reality of his life.
What Happened Next
After the TV spy saga, Guinness returned to the grind of Star Wars sequels, partly because of gratitude for Lucas’ gift of a post-contract increase in royalties. Oldfield – who died in 1981 – got what he may be assumed to have wished for, a dignified, intelligent, portrayal of a civilised British spy chief. But while the British secret service is supposed to be a class act, at least one agent – Malcolm Muggeridge – wondered if the weird set-up he had joined was a parallel organisation, set up to protect the real secret service. It is clear from such memoirs, and novels such as Norman Lewis’ A Small War Made to Order (1966), that there was no golden ‘James Bond’ age for British espionage. Guinness’s earlier role as the hoover salesman turned spy in the 1959 movie Our Man in Havana, based on the novel written by another British agent, Graham Greene – seems closer to the mark. See also 1958: Luis Bunuel asks Alec Guinness to be his lead actor.