Review of Sleuth (2007) by Edith N — 20 Oct 2008

Okay, here's the annoying part right here. I've wanted to see the original for some time, and when Lonewulf asked me to review this version, it seemed the time to do it. So I went to add it to my Netflix queue (you can tell this wasn't a library choice; it's out of order), but they didn't have it. I was vexed. Still, I thought, you know, I'll watch the new one anyway, and at such point as the old one becomes available, I'll watch that, too. It just won't be a double review, you know? So imagine my great irritation at opening the Netflix envelope and reading the Netflix summary, which ends with the question, "Why not make it a double feature?".

This is the story of two men. They are the only two people onstage during the play; they are essentially the only people onscreen during the movie. (Harold Pinter, who wrote the original play, has a brief cameo when Michael Caine is watching television at one point.) In theory, it is the story of a love triangle, but the woman, the third point, hardly matters. In the end, what matters is the wits of each man as they play against the wits of the other. Now, I saw through one of the games a bit earlier than I think I was supposed to, but I'm clever that way. I don't know if it was Branagh's intention that we see through things before Caine's Andrew does--it strikes me as a Branagh-y thing to do, to let us feel smug at our own cleverness. Then again, that may be my personal impression of Branagh and not his ability as a filmmaker.

It's a bit on the chilling side, I must say. I do not recall [i]high[/i] marks from [i]At the Movies[/i], from Roeper in particular--I cannot remember who the other critic was that week--and part of that, as I recall, was an unfavourable comparison with the original. Perhaps, in that sense, it's a good thing that I didn't get the chance to make it a double feature. (Grr.) You see, I liked this movie. I'm always being given grief by people for my unfavourable comparisons of movie to history, to the original books, to whatever is relevant. And, in this instant, original to remake. Often, the remake simply fails, and often, comparison to the original is not required to see that. However, if comparison fails this movie, perhaps those comparing are failed by it.

The movie is claustrophobic, perhaps merely phobic. We fear each man and what he will do to the other. I'm not sure which one I was supposed to be sympathetic to; each was pretty unpleasant, and I understand why they were unpleasant to each other. After all, these men were involved with the same woman. One was trying to persuade the other to give her a divorce; one was trying to convince the other that it would never happen. The thing is, I don't think either man is really in love with the woman. She's a possession, a toy, a person who exists for the purpose of being something to fight over. That's all. However, her existence is required to give the film its mood, and without mood, there really isn't much to be seen.

So, Lonewulf, I did really enjoy this movie. It was intense, certainly, and it lets you forget its mysogynistic attitude, its vile attitude toward people. Or perhaps those things only heightened its tension. As I say, tension and mood are what matters. The story is driven by them, because the whole story is just these two men trying to get the best of one another. The beauty of the story, I think, is that we don't care who gets it; all we care about is that we are taken along for the ride.