More often than is acceptable, a film’s death is delivered
with the words “Adapted from the play by….” In the hands of most
directors, stories don’t make the jump from theater to cinema without
coming off like nails on a chalkboard.
It’s not that it can’t be done well, but the differing needs of
actors and directors between the two mediums require a director with
intimate knowledge of both. Luckily, Kenneth Branagh is one of those
rare few, and his remake of the 1972 film Sleuth represents that
theater/cinema crossover at its finest.
Both the 1972 film and Branagh’s remake are adapted from a play by
Anthony Shaffer, both feature Michael Caine, and both delve into the
cruelty that humans can inflict upon each other.
Caine plays Andrew Wyke, a fabulously wealthy, aging crime novelist
who’s holed up in a massive, state-of-the art palace in the English
countryside. Jude Law plays Milo Tindle, an out-of-work actor (or
hairdresser, or chauffeur; it’s not really clear) who happens to be
schtupping Wyke’s estranged wife.
(Mercury Fun Fact™! In the original version, Caine
played Tindle, making this at least the second time Caine has appeared
in a remake of one of his older films. The other one was Get
Carter!)
(Bonus Mercury Fun Fact™! This marks the second film in
which Jude Law has played a character that Caine first played. The
first was Alfie!)
The setup of the film—that Tindle wants Wyke to give his wife,
Maggie, a divorce so they can get married, but Wyke refuses—is
little more than a canvas for Branagh and Pinter to paint a dark,
disturbing, and humorous portrait of human psychopathology.
Tindle and Wyke’s motives are slowly revealed through skillfully
crafted, hilariously cutting dialogue, to the point where each is
attempting to destroy the other through sheer humiliation. Their
interaction escalates, with each character taking their “game” to a
new, horrifying level at every turn. At first, it seems torturous and
cruel (which it is) until about mid-way through, when it becomes
obvious that both characters actually like being debased. And
then there’s the final third of the film, which is among the most
genuinely uncomfortable pieces of film I’ve ever seen—in other
words, Sleuth comes highly recommended.