Robert Hanssen and the dimensions of treason

By Carrie Andersen

Review: Breach (2007)
Directed by Billy Ray

Spy films often depict a simple contest of good versus evil, chronicling the triumph of the heroes and the downfall of the villains. Yet the relationship between a traitor and his nation is more complicated. Breach, directed by Billy Ray, effectively conveys the convoluted nature of this relationship by focusing on the dissonance between FBI Agent Robert Hanssen’s apparent religious fanaticism and his treason. Hanssen will always be a reviled figure in American history, but this movie establishes him as a conflicted and paradoxical one as well.

Living the Faith?

Robert Hanssen, portrayed by Chris Cooper, sold secrets to the Russians for fifteen years. During this time, he cost the government millions of dollars and exposed undercover agents to the swift retribution of the KGB. The film focuses on the interplay between Hanssen and Eric O’Neill (Ryan Phillippe), a young FBI employee who is recruited to find the smoking gun necessary to convict Hanssen. O’Neill is ultimately successful, and Hanssen is sentenced to life in prison.

Yet the story is not quite open-and-shut, for Hanssen did not fit the profile of a spy. He was exceedingly religious—an adherent, in fact, of Opus Dei, an ultra-orthodox Catholic organization and movement founded in 1928 and much vilified in Dan Brown’s fictional blockbuster, The Da Vinci Code. Opus Dei emphasizes serving the Lord in one’s vocation and family life, rather than limiting expression of religious faith to one hour every Sunday. Indeed, Hanssen advises O’Neill, a lapsed Catholic, that he should “live [his] faith.”

It is clear, however, that Hanssen himself did not live his faith. Hanssen would videotape sex with his wife without her knowledge, later sending the films to a friend in Germany. In addition, though unmentioned in the film, Hanssen spent much of the money he got from spying on a stripper named Priscilla Sue Galey, though both have claimed the relationship was platonic. Hanssen was neither a model member of Opus Dei nor of society.

Yet, in spite of his paranoia, sexual perversions, and treasonous behavior, Hanssen comes across not as a villain but as a tragic figure. His devotion to his family and his commitment to Catholicism are emphasized throughout the film. The interactions between Hanssen and his grandchildren, for example, are touching, and he seems like a model family man. These moments illustrate the intricate nature of Hanssen’s character: He is simultaneously a devoted husband, father, and grandfather, a sexual pervert, a devout Catholic, and a spy.

A Spy is Captured

The FBI’s ultimate capture of Hanssen in a park near his home is conveyed not as a triumphant moment for the government but, rather, as a distressing series of events. As Hanssen returns from his last dead drop, agents swarm him, and through the din one can hear his words, with a heavy tone of resignation: “Guns won’t be necessary.” As he is taken into custody, Hanssen explains that he did not spy for the money, or to harm the nation, but for his own ego: he wanted to be remembered.

The most poignant moment in the film is the last scene. O’Neill decides to leave the Bureau, and on his last day he runs into Hanssen on the elevator. Hanssen is held by two officers and seems to have been crying. He glances up at O’Neill and simply says, “Pray for me.” Hanssen in his true colors is revealed: he is a man who knows that he has committed a horrible sin, and he hates himself for it. Even so, he maintains his faith in God and hopes for forgiveness. His arrest and conviction is not presented as a triumphant victory; one instead feels sadness that such a man bent to his temptations.

A Greater Understanding

Breach is an appropriately complex portrayal of a conflicted man. Without the strong personal narrative, the rise and fall of the agent would simply come across as a simple parable in which the good guys win. Certainly, we must always be wary of attempts to humanize villains: They frequently deserve our punishment far more than our sympathy. But if we wish to deal with our enemies, we can do worse than working to understand them.