All the young millennials I know were raging in Melbourne the other Saturday night and so were some of their elders but I found myself staring at an iPad watching the frame-by-frame precision of the great Fred Schepisi film of The Russia House which is John le Carré’s long bittersweet farewell to the Cold War with a crackerjack script by Tom Stoppard and a sweeping cyclorama of the Russia which will never die.
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