Through the Display Glass: "Sleuth" (2007) - When Architecture and Contemporary British Art Manage to Upstage the Formidable

"Good night, Darling." I refuse to join the lemmings who read Roger Ebert's uninformed review of this film and then suddenly imagined themselves possessing opinions. This is NOT a remake of the 1972 film, also starring Michael Caine (but as Milo, not Andrew). This screen adaptation of Anthony Shaffer's play has been done by the ever so witty and masterful Harold Pinter. Pinter never saw the 1972 film, and simply read the play and then completely rewrote it, brilliantly juxtaposing English society in the 1970's with contemporary England. So when they say (and they do) "based" on the play, it REALLY means only "based". Now the amateur (cough) "film writers" on Wikipedia and IMDB can stop calling the movie too claustrophobic, dark, and nihilistic. IT IS HAROLD PINTER, YOU WANKERS. Stop posting silly little pseudo-intellectual comments based on Maltin's early morning stomach cramps and rather type the words "Absurd Theatre" into the search box on Wikipedia.

I, however, do not wish to analyse and criticize the film in too much depth. That has been done an ample amount of time in the past three years, and fine, the movie only got 2 nominations and 1 award, so stop bitching - you got your wish. I will thus not venture into Jude Law's camp performance where, when he finally shouts "I hate women!" at the end of the first part, I thought "clearly". The film obviously did not win a Queer Lion-award because of its subtle homo-erotic undertones. Michael Caine is as astounding as back in 1972 and he displays the character's twisted thought-process in the most remarkably subtle manner. Kenneth Branagh as director clearly understands Pinter and helps to elevate the intensity of the dark humour profoundly with the stylistically-correct pauses placed at just the right time. But enough now, I think it is clear that I like the movie. It is not due to the performances, directing or even the music (which is not that bad) though. Here follows the REAL reason.

Although the cast is not enlarged and the film still contains only two characters throughout its entirety, with the exception of a clearly very hasty Maggie-hand racing towards the country mansion, I did not get (that) bored: the prominent cast and directing are upstaged by the character's interaction with the contemporary British architecture of the mansion in which Andrew lives where the entire film is set. Or maybe it should be more accurate to say that the architecture actually interacts with them? With a tiny remote, fabulously unrealistically small and basic, the character can easily transform every room in an almost Batman-like fashion. That is if the other character would allow him to hold it. Neon spotlights and floodlights can move, transform their shapes, change colour, project an image of the person standing in the room, and more with just the press of a tiny button. The holder of the remote (later replaced by a gun) can thus constantly change the atmosphere and dramatic qualities of the surroundings and thus gains control. Bookshelves also move in that lovely James Bond way, mirrors produce distorted images, all adding a type of fluidity to the film which helps to soften the blows of the often sardonic dialogue with its repetitions and silences. In a movie filled with (cough) masculine dominance and egotism, the, what statically would seem like a brutal and intimidating, interior architecture helps to emulate a graciously moving temptress gradually seducing the characters, luring them to their downfall. Kudos to the renowned architect Ron Arad who is responsible for the architectural design and the furniture in Andrew's mansion. Haris Zambarloukos ("Mama Mia!") made the cinematography as interesting as the architecture.

For in case the witty banter momentarily fails to keep your attention, the artwork in the mansion is worth looking at with its dramatic contrasts and alien, almost histology-inspired shapes. All artworks are the creative products of Gary Hume. The wire statue, which is the first clue that the house is not decorated to correlate with its English country exterior, is the contribution of non other than the sculptor Anthony Gormley. With its frighteningly minimalist effect and its powerfully disconcerting contrasts, the interior of Andrew's mansion thus helps to pinpoint the differences between different generations as Pinter intended, helping the audience to uneasily laugh at the terrifying realism surprising them around every corner. It is a Harold Pinter play silently created by concrete, light, paint, mirrors, screens, and wires.