Friday, BBC2, 11:05pm
Based (ever so loosely) on the real-life case of British civil servant and KGB informant Melita Norwood, *Red Joan* is a quietly simmering spy drama that doesn’t go in for explosions or Aston Martins, but rather, a slow-burn tale of conviction, betrayal, and the rather inconvenient nuisance of ageing. Judi Dench stars as the elder Joan Stanley, a seemingly benign pensioner whose MI5 interrogation triggers a flurry of flashbacks to her wartime activities as a young physicist and secret agent. The film juggles themes of idealism, espionage, and the moral ambiguities of loyalty, but it never quite spills its tea — it prefers a civilised simmer.
Composer George Fenton, a seasoned hand in the business (his credits read like a BAFTA afterparty guest list), crafts a subtle and emotionally intelligent score that gently underscores the moral weight of Joan’s decisions without ever banging the proverbial drum. Fenton’s compositions are graceful, restrained, and quietly melancholic — think less John Barry, more Thomas Newman in a pensive mood. The score employs piano and strings in ways that mirror the film’s introspective tone, capturing both the nostalgia of lost youth and the cold inevitability of consequences. There’s nothing bombastic here, but for those who appreciate a score that whispers rather than shouts, it’s a delicate delight.
While the film itself didn’t exactly set the awards season ablaze, Fenton’s score received quiet praise for its craftsmanship, and Dench — ever the national treasure — brought gravitas to even the most softly-spoken scenes. For soundtrack collectors, the *Red Joan* album was released digitally but received a limited physical CD release (one for completists who still alphabetise their shelves). It’s not a showy entry in the espionage genre, but rather a reflective chamber piece — and Fenton’s music gives it the internal pulse it so delicately needs. Worth a listen on a grey afternoon, ideally with a cup of tea and a slight feeling of moral unease.
- Paul Allen