Sleuth

Director: Kenneth Branagh
Screenwriter: Harold Pinter
Starring: Michael Caine, Jude Law
Running time: 90 Mins
Certificate: 15

In a film packed with twists and turns, the greatest mystery of all is the extent to which the talent involved has been wasted in creating such a tangled mess. A great turn from the legendary Michael Caine is the only consistent element in a film written by acclaimed playwright Harold Pinter and directed by Kenneth Branagh.

Giving a rundown of the plot in any protracted detail would be futile, as it would potentially ruin the experience for anyone misguided enough to see this film. Let's just say it takes place in a mansion, with Caine playing embittered author Andrew Wyke who is visited by young actor Milo Tindle (Jude Law). Tindle begs the elder statesman to give his estranged wife a divorce to enable him to marry her. Wyke comes up with a novel solution involving a faked break-in and an insurance scam that will leave both men winners. But soon this turns into a game of life, death and a test of patience for the viewer.

The film, which contains notable narrative differences to the superior 1972 original, can effectively be divided up into three acts, all underpinned by a massive subversion of what we have been led to believe.

Branagh's direction initially bodes well for the film. Given the theatrical origins of Sleuth, he does a good job in translating the action to the screen. Many shots are seen through CCTV footage and high angles, neatly giving a distinct sense of surveillance to the piece. With the drama all taking place within one location, a sense of confinement builds up that takes us into the psychological predicament of the two sparring souls on display. Branagh is also an exponent of the power of silence during the film to heighten the mise-en-scene.

However, once the thoroughly intriguing first section of the film comes to an end, with an apparent death, the film dies alongside it. As the convoluted plot incredulously drags on, the major feeling of entrapment becomes one of the viewer in the cinema yearning for the end credits to roll.

While containing some sparkling dialogue that enables some absorbing verbal jousting between Caine and Law, Pinter's script becomes too preoccupied with trying to pull the rugs from under our feet. It's thoroughly alienating and confusing rather than drenched in the ambiguity it craves.

Crucially, Law lacks the required ability to capture the multi-dimensional persona of Tindle. It's certainly a tricky part, but his mannerisms throughout the vital second act are poor and disengage us from the narrative.

Ultimately, the one glittering gem amidst this turd of a movie is a sublime turn from Caine as Andrew Wyke. As the narrative develops, different layers of Wyke's persona are stripped down and portrayed compellingly. Alongside spitting out expletive-ridden threats during bouts of anger, a vulnerable sensual side gradually emerges with tinges of a homoerotic element to the character. Sadly it feels rather like vintage Pele playing for his local pub side – a real one-man team.