This is one of those cases in which it is impossible to talk about the film in question without making references to the original. The original was a pleasant enough and entertaining enough recreation of the Anthony Shaffer Broadway success. Then, Joseph L Manckiewicz, with the able complicity of Laurence Olivier and Michael Caine, went for the gadgetry and deception that made the play a world wide success without adding or detracting much from the original. Now, Jude Law, producer as well as star, approached Nobel laureate Harold Pinter to reinvent the whole thing and reinvented he did. Michael Caine takes now the Laurence Olivier part and Jude Law falls into the Michael Caine part, perfectly. The elements are now cruder: the language, the set, the wardrobe. Thankfully, it's also shorter, much, much shorter. What's missing is the innocence. This time things are taken a bit too seriously. The homosexual element is a novelty but, I must say, not a surprise. Jude Law exudes sex. It's impossible to put him in a confined environment with just one other person and not be sensitive to the sexual possibilities. He provokes without half trying. He plants sexual ideas in your mind and you feel compelled to break rules and go for it. His Lord Alfred Douglas was a triumph because of that. You understood Oscar Wilde's journey of self destruction just because Jude Law was his navigator. Kenneth Brannagh's theatrical touch works beautifully here and the two actors are worth the price of admission and more. So, at the bottom of all this chatter there is a recommendation. If it had been up to me however I wouldn't have gone to Harold Pinter for the revamping of this minor classic but to Alan Ayckbourn, Alan Bennett or even Tom Stoppard, but that's just me.
Review of Sleuth
