The Spy Who Came in from the Cold review, @sohoplace – Lean and pacy adaptation prioritises emotion over cliché

Fans of spy shenanigans and Cold War political machinations will be instantly swept up in this lean, pacy adaptation of John le Carré’s classic novel, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold. After a premiere in Chichester, writer David Eldridge and director Jeremy Herrin have reworked their play for this engrossing in-the-round production at London’s intimate @sohoplace.

The setting here is suggested with a minimum of fuss – a map of postwar Europe printed on the floor, some rumpled camel coats, and interludes of mysterious jazz trumpet. It’s all that’s needed, because Eldridge’s highly efficient adaptation plunges us straight into the heart of the story.

“How can one be less ruthless than the enemy,” says suave intelligence boss Control (Ian Drysdale), offering us a clue that his oh-so-English politeness does not preclude a little Soviet-style skulduggery, should the occasion demand. He’s planning a big, elaborate heist to frame an East German intelligence chief, and he wants his best man on the job. But will he resist the lure of a quiet retirement?

Rory Keenan brings a rougher, more careworn energy to this story’s conflict-scarred star spy, Alec Leamas. He’s haunted by witnessing the death of his loyal colleague Riemeck, who was shot off his bicycle while the wheels spun with a haunting click-click. That sound recurs through this play’s ominous psychological landscape, plunging us right into the alcoholic Leamas’s disintegrating mind. As he realises he might not be the hotshot he had hoped he was, Leamas hallucinates conversations with an all-knowing George Smiley, who emerges in subsequent books as Le Carré's main protagonist.

Smiley feels a little marginal here, glimpsed from an upper-level balcony, glowing in golden light like a god. His pure logic is hard to empathise with. But that just puts more focus on Leamas and his blighted romance with the earnest, trusting Liz Gold – if there’s a slightly patronising tint to the writing of this daffy, sentimental Communist idealist, Agnes O’Case does her utmost to banish it with her emotive performance.

Herrin’s production has a psychological feel, emphasising this story’s tormented emotions over spy drama cliché. That approach slightly falls away in the East Germany scenes, where murderous Mundt (Gunnar Cauthery) slips into a more traditional kind of villainy. An evocatively staged Berlin Wall climax inhabits the realms of fantasy, too, but forgivably so. This story’s twist is clever enough that it earns a little showboating.

This is the first major adaptation of Le Carré’s work, and it’s setting off on a long national tour to enthral his spy-obsessed fans – many of whom probably fear traditional outings to the theatre more than the fall of Western democracy. With such a built-in audience, there’ll surely be more instalments to come. And that’s a welcome prospect if, like this one, they skip the stodgy period drama approach in favour of something as fleet-footed and subtle.

‘The Spy Who Came In From the Cold’ is on at @sohoplace until 21 February 2026; tickets here