by John Tillyard, Contributing Writer
In the 1920s seaside town of Littlehampton, Edith Swan (Olivia Colman) and Rose Gooding (Jessie Buckley) find themselves at the center of a scandal when Edith, and later many other residents, start receiving abusive letters delivered anonymously, with Rose being suspected by many of having sent them. All may not be as it seems; however, police officer, Gladys Moss (Anjana Vasan), begins her investigation, believing Rose is innocent.
While Wicked Little Letters is based on a true story that took place over 100 years ago, the premise of sending anonymous verbal abuse is even more relevant now with the emergence of social media and the ability to hide your identity behind usernames and avatars. So I love that this story has been brought into the public eye now.
Much of the film’s humor comes from the colorful wording of the insults in the letters and similarly colorful dialogue, as the two lead women make what they think of each other clear. It was undoubtedly a prominent focus of the trailer, albeit with the profanity replaced with cuts to people gasping. The trailers worried me, because they suggested that shock humor was all the film was going for, and I wondered if hearing the profanity in the final film would come across as less effective. But thankfully, this humor goes deeper than just them saying bad words. The phrasing of the insults is creative and continues to be funny throughout the story.
With that said, the story’s focus isn’t so much on the verbal abuse itself, but instead on the mystery of the whodunit. Then, about halfway through the story, it starts to become pretty obvious who it is, and the empowering questions the audience asks become, “Will they be caught?” and,”How will they be caught?”It’s a pattern of storytelling seen in a lot of modern police investigation dramas where the identity of the culprit is easy to work out from the focus of the narrative, and the characters it is portrayed as likable. Or at least as likable as characters who constantly yell profanity can be.
Edith and Rose are given equal development in terms of their families, and you get a great feeling that these are just ordinary people thrown into an abnormal situation. Coleman and Buckley give standout performances, and I genuinely can’t decide who I enjoyed more. Their delivery of profanity-filled insults adds an extra level of humor. I usually don’t care much for comedies that use excessive profanity to make things funny. But with the setting of 1920s England, and the main characters being working-class women, it’s just the last place you expect to hear this kind of language. The unexpected nature of it somehow makes it all the more hilarious.
On top of the family lives, there is also a fair amount of focus on the Littlehampton community. The range of characters has a genuinely compelling nature. Edith’s father, Edward (Timothy Spall), is overbearing and dominant in every scene he is in. Gladys is logically professional as a police officer as she continues to repress her frustration at overlooking her information, and the various women in the town give off a very believable tale-bearer vibe as they attempt to uncover the truth.
It is also refreshing to see a British period piece that is set somewhere other than in London. Small-town 1920s England is showcased beautifully in various settings, including a beachfront, town center, and suburban street where the two main characters live. It makes for a much more engaging visual experience than I remember seeing from director Thea Sharrock’s previous British film, Me Before You, as the feel of the period bursts through the screen.
There’s also a lovely snug feeling to these sorts of small-world stories that actually happened. There’s nothing historically remarkable about the people involved in this story, the events didn’t set anything groundbreaking into motion, and the location is a small English town that, even as an Englishman myself, I’d never heard of. It’s just a window into ordinary people’s lives during a period primarily lost to history. It is, in essence, the movie-watching equivalent of flipping through old family photos and reminiscing. Some may not like the more filler-type sequences that focus on other aspects of Edith and Rose’s life. For example, Rose’s daughter, Nancy (Alisha Weir), starts to develop an interest in music. But it makes the world and the characters of this story feel much more believable, and reminds you that their lives are still going on while everything developed.
But as well as being a period comedy piece, a well-layered mystery is woven into this story. Vasan performs a much more serious investigation of the letters, and analyses who may have sent them. Later courtroom scenes, and a sting operation to catch the culprit in the act, are captivating as you grow to wonder what Officer Moss plans to do. At no point does the story feel like it’s dragging, and it’s helped along by Vasan’s performance, which gives an unmistakable vibe that her character is brimming with competence.
This small-town period piece has a great mix of comedy, mystery, and community, with a decent ensemble of characters. It gets the balance of adult humor with a decent mystery story just about right, and never feels like it is spending too long on one aspect or the other. The story does get a little bogged down in developing side characters towards the end, and it does feel just a hair longer than it needed to be. Some might also feel a strange mix of tones as the whodunit story paired with outrage humor, but the shifts never felt jarring. Colman, Buckley, and Vasan all give brilliantly compelling performances, and their onscreen presence sucks you into the story, keeping you gripped from beginning to end. The method of catching the culprit seems far-fetched, but makes for a satisfying ending to an all-around brilliantly fun and original story.
Rating: High Side of Liked It
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