Theatre Review: Sleuth

In a dramatic contrast to the Bronte season currently being celebrating at The Playhouse, Anthony Shaffer’s slapstick thriller Sleuth stops at The Quarry Theatre where Leo Owen caught the show

Best known as the writer of The Wicker Man, Anthony Shaffer penned Sleuth in 1969, winning a Tony Award for Best Play and resulting in the later release of the hit film adaptation, starring Laurence Olivier and Michael Caine. Nottingham playhouse Director, Giles Croft, collaborates with The West Yorkshire Playhouse again in this new interpretation.

Designer Barney George’s sumptuous set immediately transports us to leafy Wiltshire and to the home of arrogant mystery writer, Andrew Wyke (Miles Richardson). Initially presenting the façade of an impressive stone mansion with enormous patio doors, George’s incredible mechanical set retracts in entirety to reveal yet more gadgetry and grandeur. At the press of a button, Andrew is able to spin the staircase or access his private bar, in keeping with the clichéd twists and turns of the detective stories he writes.

Dictating notes for his next tall story, Andrew awaits his wife’s lover whom he has orchestrated a meeting with. The arrival of Milo Tindle (James Alexandrou) prompts the beginning of a farcical game of cat and mouse, brimming with bluffs and double bluffs; the central plot premise decidedly odd from the outset as Andrew casually tells Milo: “I hear you want to marry my wife.” Fearing Milo will be financially unable to indulge her expensive habits and completely take her “off his hands”, Andrew proposes an insurance scam to ensure he has enough money to “keep” his ex-wife, involving staging the robbery of her jewellery.

Shaffer’s script has some wonderful lines, mocking Andrew’s bravado as he claims “Sex is the game, marriage is the penance” and preposterously boasts of his sexual prowess: “I would copulate for England”. His character remains the comedic driving force throughout, forcing Milo to don a clown suit, complete with over-sized shoes as his burglar’s guise so a “passing sheep sh*gger” won’t recognise him. While the burglary is staged, he watches on the surveillance, shouting “Keep your big feet off my Busy Lizzies!”

Full of obvious plot twists and turns, Sleuth is dialogue heavy and exceedingly slapstick, occasionally to its detriment. With the final line spoken and the actors taking a bow, although entertaining, the play feels incomplete, almost like it’s missing a whole act. Cast performances are not at fault but something lacks in the writing.

Sleuth shows at The Playhouse 30 September-October 15: https://www.wyp.org.uk/events/sleuth/