First came James Bond, the super-cool, super-sexy, super-spy.
Then came the necessary antidotes for a world gone Bond-mad. These were the spying anti-heroes, personified by the creations of John Le Carre and Len Deighton. Of these, Deighton's Harry Palmer was for me the most memorable, especially as played on screen in true Cockney style by the quintessential Cockney, Michael Caine. Deighton's The Ipcress File came to the screen in 1965, followed just a year later by Funeral in Berlin, and these anti-hero spy films still present themselves very well, with their world-weary and cynical expression.
If an idea works on the big screen, why not on the little tube as well? So, in 1967, Callan was born, starring Edward Woodward - you would remember him as Breaker Morant in Bruce Beresford's eponymous movie.
This was terrific television - dark and gritty drama. No glamorous birds throwing themselves in front of Bond; just Callan doing a job he detested, as he worked the dirty end of the street for the British Secret Service. Helping him was Lonely - a smelly little Cockney who farted when he was scared - and Callan scared him a lot.
Callan ran from 1967 to 1972, and in 1973 the very first episode was expanded and reshot as a feature film. It tells the story of Callan, a spy who had started questioning what he was doing. He has to leave the Service.
He is called back, and is given a special task to prove that he hasn't lost his nerve. If he passes, he rejoins the service. It's a test of fire. Magnum-scale fire.
The first thing you notice is that the great introductory opening credits for the television series are missing, replaced by a very average aerial shot of London. And the great Callan theme music has gone, replaced by a worse than average wail on a mouth-organ. These losses are crucial - Callan just isn't Callan without its sombre mood-setting music, and the image of a single light bulb swinging on the end of its cord, sending strange shadows through a boxed-in room.
Edward Woodward is still convincing as Callan, but around him the rest of the movie seems to just fall flat. Perhaps Callan could only thrive in the hour-long episode framework of the television series - this seems too padded-out. Perhaps the television series too would be showing its age by now. But I think not - this is just a case of more being less. Callan doesn't need the trappings of film; television was his perfect metier.
