THEATER REVIEW : Any Reason to See Civic’s ‘Sleuth’ Remains a Mystery

SAN DIEGO —  Back in 1971, it was not hard to understand why Anthony Shaffer’s “Sleuth” won a Tony for best play. “Sleuth’s” competitors, mostly forgotten by now, were “Home,” “Story Theater” and “The Philanthropist.”

Seeing the touring company revival of “Sleuth” playing at the Civic Theatre through July 3, one wonders how many people would have remembered “Sleuth” today if it hadn’t won the Tony and been propelled in 1972 into a film starring Laurence Olivier and Michael Caine.

There certainly isn’t any reason for seeing this production except for fans of Stacy Keach (“Mike Hammer”) and Maxwell Caulfield (“The Colbys”) who want to see the two do star turns. While they have their moments, their collective interpretations are about as meaty as a side view of Olive Oyl.

Back in the 1970s, Broadway audiences lapped up “Sleuth.” It was a spectacle of tricks, a tour de force for two actors playing deadly games of wits on each other. Keach takes on Olivier’s role as the older, aristocratic Englishman, Andrew Wyke, who writes detective stories for sport. Caulfield tackles Caine’s role as young and ambitious English entrepreneur Milo Tindle. At stake is the aristocrat’s estranged wife, whom the young man wants to marry.

Or, to read it another way, at stake is England herself, estranged from the old corrupt, cynical aristocracy that had played itself out after two world wars, about to turn to the rising, immigrant middle class that still believed in England’s promise for resurrection.

While the aristocrat knows he has lost the battle, he gets his revenge by playing humiliating tricks on the upstart. However, he hasn’t counted on two things: The upstart is determined to give back as good as he gets, and Wyke’s impending loss hurts the old cynic more than his smug, self-assured demeanor lets on even to himself.

When the cry escapes him--”Do you mean she isn’t coming back?”--it should register as a poignant moment that suggests he really hasn’t accepted the situation. It is remarkable that under the direction of Marshall W. Mason, who directed the highly acclaimed “Burn This” for Broadway, this production utterly misses the class struggle that gives the tricks their edge. For those who have seen the tricks on Broadway or in the movie, missing that struggle means missing it all.

One of the elements that made Caine’s Tindle so winning was the grate of his Cockney accent against Olivier’s aristocratic one. There is no such contrast between Caulfield and Keach unless it is one between energy and the lack thereof. And even then, frustratingly, it is Keach who delivers all the potent energy, and Caulfield who moves through the piece with the languidness of the born aristocrat.

The set, by David Potts, does a yeoman-like job of depicting Wyke’s study, but it misses most of the fun possible in detailing the lair of a wealthy, clever and imaginative detective writer. The lighting by Dennis Parichy and costumes by Bill Hargate are serviceable. The sound is less than that; Caulfield does not rise to the heavy acoustical demands of the 2,992-seat Civic Theatre.

The total effect is that this is a project tossed off as a commercial property, a place for the stars to enhance marketability by showing off versatility and to make a quick buck for everyone concerned.

The sad part is that “Sleuth” probably could have been freshened up. A play within the play is struggling to get out, with the older actor dueling with a younger one for the love and attention of the audience.

But except for one flash in a scene where the audience oohs as Caulfield strips to his racy red briefs, Keach wins this battle, too. Emotionally, that is not the way the play is supposed to end.

“SLEUTH”

By Anthony Shaffer. Director is Marshall W. Mason. Set by David Potts. Lighting by Dennis Parichy. Costumes by Bill Hargate. Sound by Randy Freed. With Stacy Keach and Maxwell Caulfield. At 8 p.m. Thursday-Saturday with matinees Saturday at 2 and Sunday at 3 through July 3. At the San Diego Civic Theatre, 202 C St., San Diego.