Sleuth (1972)

“Milo” (Michael Caine) arrives at the stately pile of a renowned crime writer - a sort of male Agatha Christie, and has to navigate a complex maze to track down his voice. The dapper “Andrew” (Sir Laurence Olivier) welcomes his guest effusively and takes him into his home. It’s an Aladdin’s cave of theatrical props and costumes which leaves “Milo” a little unnerved. Not as unnerved as he’s going to get, though, when “Andrew” declares his knowledge of the affair his wife is having with him and that he’s relatively relaxed about her leaving so long as he can get the insurance on £175,000 worth of baubles. If only “Milo” can think of a way to purloin them so the police don’t suspect an inside job? Well, it’s not as if there aren’t loads of disguises available and soon the germ of a cunning plan emerges. Unfortunately for the hapless “Milo” this plan has hidden consequences which soon have him very much on the back foot. Smugly satisfied with his night’s work, “Andrew” settles down to some caviar only to find he has an unexpected visitor who meticulously upsets his plan and starts to turn the tables. Now it’s a battle of wits! Olivier and Caine hold this together really quite entertainingly aided by a really cleverly constructed plot, script, some great mechanical gadgets and a good old dose of psychologically malevolent revenge. It’s possibly the most natural I’ve ever seen Olivier on a big screen, though that might be because he’s possibly not doing so much actual acting until very near the end. Caine, likewise, proves he has more to his portfolio than his more traditional East End Charlie in a sharp suit. I didn’t really love the denouement, but en route it’s a game of two halves where jeopardy is the name of the game for them and us! It’s a classy production with two actors looking like they were having a good time, and I found that contagious .