SNOOZING VIEWER THE SECRET AGENT: Suspense. Starring Bob Hoskins, Patricia Arquette, Gerard Depardieu, Jim Broadbent, Robin Williams, Christian Bale. Directed by Christopher Hampton. (R. 95 minutes. At the Vogue.)

Joseph Conrad's dense, darkly brilliant writing keeps defying translation to film -- and "The Secret Agent," based on his 1907 novel, is no exception. This thick, leaden production starring Bob Hoskins and Patricia Arquette -- and an uncredited Robin Williams -- has a sophomoric air, even though it faithfully follows the book.

The Conrad novel was filmed once before, by Alfred Hitchcock, under the title "Sabotage" (1936). It never caught on, although some critics think it represents a significant step in Hitchcock's development.

One thing Hitchcock did with the Conrad material was to make it quirkily amusing. The new "Secret Agent," opening today at the Vogue, takes itself so seriously and looks so dark that viewers will have to squint to make it out.

The overly sober tone is an odd choice for writer and director Christopher Hampton ("Carrington"), considering that he cast actors famous for comedy in key parts. Williams plays an anarchist and mad bomber, Jim Broadbent ("Bullets Over Broadway") is a police inspector and British stand-up comedian Eddie Izzard plays an Eastern European embassy official.


Irony is the key to the tale, set in the Soho district of London in 1886. The beefy Hoskins is Verloc, dour operator of a corner smut shop, who is married to the beautiful Winnie (a haggard Arquette). The coupling is curious, as it is in the book, but it develops that Winnie's reason for marrying the crude Verloc is that his relative wealth provides comfort for her mentally deficient brother, Stevie (Christian Bale), the only person in the world she truly cares about.

The London of the day is an ambassadorial haven for many foreign governments and a political asylum for dissidents (one of whom is played by Gerard Depardieu). It's a hotbed of intrigue and espionage as governments and political factions try to keep track of one another and sometimes resort to violence.

Verloc is assigned by an ambitious embassy attache (Izzard) to stir things up. But he also works as an informant for the police, with Chief Inspector Heat (Broadbent) his liaison. Pressured by the demands of the embassy, the cops and his wife, Verloc entertains a plan to run away from it all, perhaps to America.


But his assignment to set off a bomb outside the Royal Observatory in Greenwich Park throws everything madly and tragically askew.

Hampton works the suspense story so stiffly and formally -- accompanied by composer Philip Glass' score -- that there's no sweat or soul in the intrigue.

Hoskins feels all wrong for the role of Verloc, and his distanced way of showing anxiety never allows him to become the sympathetic character the story intends.

Williams is the only one with any life, but his performance is far from memorable.

Those interested in checking out this film would be wise to do so soon -- "The Secret Agent's" cover is likely to be blown quickly.