Director Anton Corbijn with Philip Seymour Hoffman

An intricate, classily-shot spy film set in Hamburg from a John le Carré novel, reeking of cynicism and cigarettes. It kept me engaged while I watched it and I only picked holes in it afterwards.

Hoffman is a dishevelled, disenchanted spy in charge of a small counter-terrorist unit. He plays the role well, even if the German accent does sound unaccountably Irish at times. A slow-moving, tightly woven plot with some threadbare patches; a few ends – like motives – are left hanging. Why is Gunther so keen to add yet another mole to his network of informers? What’s the purpose of an endless chain of double agents? Perhaps the Americans are right in taking the brutal step of removing the questionable philanthropist rather than allowing more funds to trickle through to Al Qaeda. And le Carré wishful thinking blended well with Hollywood norms: all the women were beautiful and soignée and nearly all the men were nothing to write home about.