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BY MAGGIE SCOTT
One man has stolen another man’s wife. There’s the little matter of divorce. What will it take to convince the husband to agree without the messiness of solicitors? Polite, delicate supplication? Blunt persuasion? Brutal reason? Knives? Guns?

Seeking answers could be deadly, in “Sleuth,” writer Harold Pinter and director Kenneth Branagh’s remake of the 1972 film adaptation of the 1970 Anthony Shaffer play.

Laurence Olivier and Michael Caine sparred in the original, and Branagh has cleverly appointed Caine to take Olivier’s role, while entrusting Jude Law to take an impressive crack at the character the youthful Caine nailed. Branagh knows his way around legitimate theatre and film adaptations of plays, most notably those of Shakespeare, as actor and director.

His affinity with that type of dramatic presentation can be seen in his more-or-less stage-bound treatment of Shaffer’s work, rejecting a more typical opening up of the action in the transition from stage to screen. Although the film is in color, there is a steeliness to it that recalls some of the fine black and white character dramas of the 60s from Britain, like Darling, Look Back in Anger, Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner, Alfie.

The film could more properly be titled, “Probe,” as Pinter pits his protagonists in a close-quarters duel of egos that has first one man, then the other, relinquishing the upper hand.

Milo (Law) comes brashly demanding an answer from Andrew (Caine) concerning granting his errant wife Maggie (seen only in a Richard Avedon-style photo portrait on Andrew’s wall) a divorce. At first, Andrew’s cunning politeness has the edge over Milo’s belligerence.

Each man gets his digs in related to age, occupation, ethnic background, economic status. Soon it’s clear that this isn’t about Maggie. Andrew isn’t really interested in getting her back, and he’s not moved by Milo’s assertion that he and Maggie are in love.

Andrew is a writer; whose imagination has turned stories of villainy into best sellers. This story is all about control, humiliation, toying with the enemy. Andrew proposes a theft to bilk his insurance company in exchange for his cooperation with the divorce.

Milo complies and things get dicey. Andrew isn’t about to let Milo take his wife and her pink diamond necklace worth 500,000 pounds. End of Act One, with Andrew in control. Act Two opens with a disreputable-looking Scotland Yard inspector asking Andrew if he knows the whereabouts of the missing Milo. Andrew claims ignorance. It doesn’t deter the inspector, who is playing a big game of his own, from which little games will spring.

Andrew has not seen the last of Milo. The two will square off again, with Milo believing he has control this time. Appearing to go belly up, Andrew feigns subservience, hinting at sexual service and making another proposition: reject Maggie’s domination and be looked after by Andrew, instead.

Does the story end any differently if Milo says yes? Or, has Andrew already written the final chapter, regardless of whether Maggie chooses money over love or Milo withdraws from the field of battle?

Law and Caine go toe to toe with fiendish relish, wrestling Pinter’s famously erudite dialogue into submission. Patrick Doyle’s tango-flavored music accentuates the sense of characters locked in a deadly dance.

Sony Pictures Classic release, rated R for language, violence.
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