More TV Goodness: The Sandbaggers

Posted by J. Mark Bertrand
on Saturday, August 11, 2007
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It's not that I'm nostalgic for the Cold War or anything, but Laurie's away in London so I decided to move something to the top of my Netflix list that she'd never have suffered: The Sandbaggers, a British TV show about spies and skullduggery from the late 1970s. She kindly sat through Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy and Smiley's People, but there are limits to what a happy marriage can endure. I've been wanted to watch this show for a couple of years after reading about it, and now I've finally gotten the chance. What can I say? I'm hooked. No wonder this show has a cult following.

The Sandbaggers is espionage after Le Carre's own heart. Quoth Wikipedia:

The Sandbaggers inverts most of the conventions of the spy thriller genre. In sharp contrast to the "girls, guns, and gadgets" motif established by the James Bond movies, The Sandbaggers features very few action sequences, no flashy cars, and no high-tech gizmos. On more than one occasion, in fact, characters explicitly disparage the fictitious Bond and the romanticized view of the intelligence business that some amateurs and outsiders have. In contrast, Neil Burnside is a harried spymaster who doesn't drink; Willie Caine is a secret agent who abhors guns and violence; and no character is seen to have sex over the course of the series. The bureaucratic infighting is reminiscent of John Le Carre's George Smiley novels. The overall style is one of gritty realism. The series is particularly grim (though laced with black humour), depicting the high emotional toll taken on espionage professionals who operate in a world of moral ambiguity.

Roy Marsden's character Neil Burnside is a remarkable anti-hero -- and I have a thing for anti-heroes -- mesmerizing to watch. I've only seen the first season, but I was surprised how often Burnside is put in the position of criticizing other people for doing precisely the things he's guilty of himself, a fact which he's only partially aware of. He's ruthless and ambitious, and Marsden's performance is a pleasure to watch. He makes the series, in fact, although the cast is strong as a whole.

The crazy thing is, I'm even in love with the style of the piece. London in the late seventies appears to have been a mix of bowler hats and over-sized collars, but in a strange way it works. It's a testament, I suppose, to how much the ironic revival of seventies style has softened this hater-of-the-decade over time, but Marsden's massive collars look kind of cool to me now, and his suits are often excellent. His crotchety pipe-smoking superiors are impeccably turned out, too.

British TV from this period is probably an acquired taste now, especially if you didn't grow up with it. There's something comic about the way exteriors are shot on film and interiors on video (with especially harsh light). If you've seen Dr. Who episodes from the Tom Baker era, you know what I'm talking about. You stop noticing after awhile, especially if your wife isn't present to constantly call attention to the production values or lack thereof.