In the films superbly staged opening gambit, Robert Redfords bookish CIA reader (codenamed Condor) takes a break from his job at a disguised New York brownstone really a CIA operation for reading all published books to gain facts and intelligence that may be slipping through the international radar or being used as codes to go on the lunch run for the rest of his colleagues. While he is away, the building is compromised and all the inhabitants are brutally assassinated. On his return, Condor discovers the murders and calls it in to his CIA superior (Cliff Robertson), only to find himself targeted by the unknown killers of his associates as the client they missed. On the run and slowly realising that his employers are, in fact, behind the whole thing, Condor kidnaps a lonely photographer (Faye Dunaway) and forces her to assist him in staying alive long enough to uncover what the hell is going on. Unfortunately, Condors much required death is now a matter of urgency and the CIA have no choice but to put the worlds greatest assassin (Max Von Sydow) out to go after him. And from this opening act, one of the great conspiracy thrillers of the 70s is born. The film is still as ace now as it was back in its day. Its the seed from which the likes of the superb Bourne movies have grown and Sydney Pollack keeps the pace fast and tight. Theres very little flab on its bones.