John le Carre Evades Errol Morris in Entertaining, Wry Interview Doc The Pigeon Tunnel
For a documentary about one of the most celebrated writers of spy fiction, The Pigeon Tunnel can seem—at first glance—deceptively placid. Clocking in at just over 90 minutes, the film features an extended conversation between David Cornwell, AKA John le Carre, and Oscar-winning docmaker Errol Morris. It’s just that. Two people talking, with Morris off-screen, their parrying question-and-answers broken up with archival images and re-enactments of Cornwell’s past, as well as snippets from the classic movies or TV adaptations based on his spy universe: The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and A Perfect Spy. However, it’s a fascinating conversation that keeps its hold on the viewer for its duration.
The Pigeon Tunnel begins with Cornwell wondering what kind of an interlocutor Morris might make. After all, an interview is a type of interrogation, he muses. Cornwell makes the comparison lightly, a bemused smile playing on his face, his polished diction never slipping. At once, you know he’s in control of this interview, and by extension this representation of himself—a famous author who borrowed from his own troubled past when writing fiction.
The documentary delves into Cornwell’s relationship with his father, which he characterizes as one of betrayal. Cornwell was abandoned by his mother when he was five, and was brought up by his con man father Ronnie, who was always on the run from either the mob or the police. The movie’s title comes from one of Cornwell’s visits to Monte Carlo with his father, where a local pastime involving pigeon shooting became imprinted on his memory.
Ronnie ensured that Cornwell was educated well, so that his son could fit in with polite society. But he also regularly involved Cornwell in his shady world. His duplicitous upbringing eventually led Cornwell to be recruited by the British intelligence agencies MI5 and MI6—although exactly how this happened, we don’t find out. He learned his lessons well, and eventually was the one performing the betrayals. Taking up fiction, Cornwell surmises, might have been a way to deal with the skeletons in his own closet.