Harold Pinter (1930–2008), the Nobel laureate, takes apart the fragile construction of love, memory, and time with the scalpel of adultery. His characters betray one another and, in the process, themselves—a little at first, until it turns out there is no room left for candor at all. Not even for a game of squash: sport requires honesty.

Two married couples have been close for years, the friendship between Robert and Jerry at the center of it all. Then the balance tips, for good, and a triangle forms. From that point on, everyone builds—labyrinths of omission, small deceits, and secrets; walls that will eventually divide them—without noticing that what they are really doing is tearing things down.

“Betrayal” runs backward, from the present into the past: each scene winds the clock back a little further, until we can see where a choice first took root. It is a sharp, quietly funny study of passion, attachment, and deceit.