Within the few gaps left by a rampaging horde of musicals, the good old fashioned thriller on stage still gets a relatively fair crack of the whip when it comes to the UK touring scene.

The quality, as ever, proves variable. For every prestige Christie (Murder on the Orient Express) or satisfying new chill (Paranormal Activity) there are the campy, screaming duds (Picture You Dead, anyone?).

And with pulpier churners such as Harlan Coben and Peter James doing more than their fair share of monopolising stage and screen with their conveyer belt ‘thrills’, it ironically sees the likes of a sturdy, old-fashioned John le Carré arrive feeling somehow fresh and inviting.

Based on le Carré’s breakthrough 1963 Cold War hit, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold comes to the stage courtesy of this handsome and polished David Eldridge and Jeremy Herrin adaptation. It follows weary intelligence officer, Alec Leamas (Ralf Little) as he embarks on one risky, final operation; a fake defection that hopes to ensnare a sinister German counterpart, responsible for the death of one of Leamas’ best and closest agents.

For starters, it certainly looks the part – Max Jones’ sets and costumes and Azusa Ono’s pulsing, foreboding lighting casting a gloomy, almost discomforting environ that is quite literally overshadowed by an effigy of the Berlin Wall. It’s visually arresting, for sure, perfectly striking the cold, oppressive reality of espionage of the era.

Perhaps owing to a combination of le Carré having been himself an operative for the security and intelligence forces, coupled with its age, Spy certainly carries some trappings for mordern audiences to be aware of. For one, it’s very talky, with an exposition-heavy first half in particular occasionally languishing. Similarly, with its abundance of characters, agencies, titles, pseudonyms and subterfuges, it can occasionally be thick on information and a little light on any sort of kinetic incident.

“…eye-watering (quite literally) interrogation scenes and high-stakes tribunals giving Herrin the opportunity to inject some palpable danger and propulsion to the production.”

A tighter, tenser second Act alleviates things considerably, with eye-watering (quite literally) interrogation scenes and high-stakes tribunals giving Herrin the opportunity to inject some palpable danger and propulsion to the production. And simmering beneath it all, threads of uncertainty and accusation will leave those unfamiliar with the source material likely second-guessing themselves right up to the powerful, poignant finale.

TV favourite Ralf Little is a strong centre around which the paranoia and danger can pulse. His Leamas is world-weary and suitably sardonic, yet still displays flashes of former youthful vigour and cheekiness. If it isn’t as gnarly or uncompromising a portrayal as some have gone for in the past, the odd beats of levity or comedic frankness that Little injects throughout being a welcome, sporadic puncture to a rather bleak whole.

Little is bolstered by an impressive supporting company about him, too. Peter Losasso is suitably odious as the enigmatic target of Leamas’ operation, whilst Eddie Toll commands much of the second half with an engrossing and impassioned turn as the communist deputy willing to take on his sinister superior. Tony Turner and Nicholas Murchie, meanwhile, give dignified and grounded turns as Leamas’ British seniors, never quite escaping the encroaching shadow of suspicion and uncertainty themselves.

Turner also gets to grandstand up a storm as a bloviating German defence attorney. Gráinne Dromgoole, meanwhile, is earnest and likeable as potential love interest, Liz, though her ties to the communist party and parallels with Alec’s recently-deceased agent hover ominously over her, too.

“…administers a dose of gnawing, biting cold war tension and paranoia that culminates in a devilishly tangled net of double and triple crosses, surprises and tragedy.”

As opposed to being a breakneck, rollicking thrill-ride, The Spy Who Came In From the Cold administers a dose of gnawing, biting cold war tension and paranoia that culminates in a devilishly tangled net of double and triple crosses, surprises and tragedy.

A classy, sophisticated and supremely polished piece of theatre, if it may be a little too talky or expository in places for some, stay at the very least for the finely observed performances and rich, intricate drama that leaves no great mystery as to why this is a story that remains as popular – and welcome – as ever some six decades on.