SLEUTH
Directed by Samuel Buggeln; written by Anthony Shaffer.
With: Evan Thompson, Charles Daniel Sandoval, Michael Frederic, D.J.
Zellnik-Schildcrout, Andretti Williams.
At Portland Stage Company from October 29 to November 24, 2002.
By Laurie Meunier Graves
As a species, humans love to play games. The impulse starts when we are very
young with games such as tag, hide and seek, and jump rope. As we grow older
and supposedly more sophisticated, we progress to board games, card games,
word games, and puzzles. We never seem to tire of them; as a rule these
entertainments are harmless and, at their best, even creative.
Of course, certain religious groups have frowned on games and have even
prohibited them. Before we dismiss these groups as repressive Puritans, we
would do well to acknowledge that games have their dark side as well. Pranks
and practical jokes qualify as games, but they are not always funny and are
certainly not fun for the intended victim.
Sleuth is a play about what happens when two men go too far with pranks and
practical jokes, when they make a game of their feelings and resentments
instead of dealing directly with them. The setting is the English
countryside, and when the play opens, Andrew Wyke, an aging writer of
detective novels, has invited Milo Tindle over for drinks and a chat. We
immediately learn that Tindle is having an affair with Wyke’s wife, and at
first glance Wyke is all wit and reason, making wry, sarcastic comment after
wry, sarcastic comment. Ah, the English! They certainly have a way with
words.
And Wyke has a modest proposal as well. He has come up with an elaborate
plan that involves Tindle dressing up in a clown suit, breaking into the
house, stealing jewels from a safe, and selling them on the black market.
Tindle will get the money from the jewels; Wyke will get the insurance
money. Tindle will gain a wife; Wyke will lose one. Both men will live
happily ever after.
Naturally, things do not go according to plan. They were never intended to
do so. There are plots and counterplots with the whole thing becoming a
nasty game between the two men. Before the play is over, Wyke is making
snarling, xenophobic comments about Tindle’s Jewish-Italian heritage, and
Tindle, a much younger man, lords his strength and virility over Wyke. For
good measure, class resentment is sprinkled into the mix, and what started
out as a silly but amusing whodunit becomes something much more serious.
With Wyke, games have become a way of distancing himself from life. He has
used them as a buffer against the messy emotions that inevitably come with
human relationships. Tindle uses games as a fuel for his resentment and is
incapable of forgiving. Not surprisingly, he loses control of his intense
emotions, and the game between the two men ends in a way that neither of them
anticipated.
Portland Stage Company’s presentation of Sleuth is far from perfect. I saw
it during previews, and Evan Thompson, who plays Andrew Wyke, fumbled with
some of the props and with some of his lines. Presumably, this will be
worked out in future productions. More serious was Thompson’s blustering
English accent. In the beginning, it was difficult to understand what he was
saying; his voice lacked clarity and crispness. However, as the play
progressed, this was less of a problem, and I’m not sure whether his speech
became clearer, or I just became accustomed to his manner of speaking.
Charles Daniel Sandoval, who played Milo Tindle, looked far too young to be
going after Wyke’s wife. Indeed, in the beginning, I thought I had heard
wrong and that Tindle was angling for Wyke’s daughter. But no, it was his
wife. Now, it is common for old men to have younger wives, and sometimes
older women have young lovers. Nevertheless, it was hard to envision the
youthful-looking Tindle in love with an old man’s wife, especially when
there was a reference to parties attended long ago by Wyke and his wife. How
long ago? When Tindle was still at home watching cartoons on Saturday
mornings?
However, despite the flaws, this production was riveting and even moving.
When, at the end, Wyke was red-faced with shame and misery, I felt genuine
pity for him. And when Tindle went from being nervous and reserved to
vengeful and full of resentment, it was completely believable. Best of all
the script crackled with wit, which the two actors did a fine job of hurling
at each other.
