A film claiming to be “more true than you’d think” is always a great way to immediately snatch audience attention. Wicked Little Letters, set in the 1920s, hones in on what was allegedly the worst letter crime ever. In the sleepy town of Littlehampton, a wave of curse-word-laden handwritten letters swept across the desks of folks far and wide, seemingly without explanation. The common thread was the identical handwriting, coupled with the perpetrator’s intimate details about their subjects to twist in an appalling manner. Just who was behind these letters, and what nefarious motives did they have in sending them in the first place? Part dark comedy part engaging mystery, Wicked Little Letters provides two powerhouse performances from Olivia Colman and Jessie Buckley, ample amounts of naughty language, and well-worn takeaways about sexism seen through fresh eyes.
The first to receive a letter is one Edith Swan (Colman, The Favourite, Wonka), a deeply religious spinster who lives with her parents. Their Irish immigrant next door neighbor, Rose Gooding (Buckley, Men, The Lost Daughter), appears to be the most likely culprit. She spouts profanities around town, raises hell at the local pubs, and draws the eyeballs of many in Littlehampton. As the film begins, Edith receives her 19th letter by mail. Her curmudgeonly father, Edward (Timothy Spall, Harry Potter, Sweeney Todd), has officially had enough, and immediately takes the matter to the local authorities. It will take Edith to personally file a complaint regarding the letters and their contents in order for legal action to be pursued. Once they cart Rose away to jail for the night, the letters temporarily stop. As soon as she has been released, they resume, but this time with a vengeance.
As the women around Littlehampton begin to receive these vile, unintentionally hilarious letters, all fingers point to Rose. Who else parades around town, making a spectacle of herself? Although, the pieces do not all seem to fit. If Rose was so brazen, why not just tell these people how she feels directly to their face? Overnight, Rose has been cancelled, in 1920s terms. The only member of law enforcement who seems to have any doubt about Rose’s involvement is also the sole female on the force: Gladys (Anjana Vasan, Cyrano, Cinderella). Gladys rallies with many women around town to get to the bottom of the letters, much to the chagrin of her strictly-male coworkers. With the trial set to begin imminently in the case of these letters, proving Rose’s innocence may be an impossible task.
As rival neighbors, both Colman and Buckley are outrageously impressive, at the top of their game. For Rose, losing the trial could prove disastrous considering she has sole custody of her daughter, Nancy (Roald Dahl’s Matilda the Musical, Abigail). On the other hand, the longer this situation drags on, the harsher Edith’s vile father acts towards her. The excellence of both women in their respective roles comes as little surprise given the breadth of their careers, but I simply cannot imagine anyone else filling them. Colman in particular plays a fascinating woman whose religious intolerance may be a product of her time. Eventually, an explosive confrontation between Rose and Edith occurs that transforms Wicked Little Letters from a great movie to a truly extraordinary one.
Director Thea Sharrock puts out her best film since 2016’s Me Before You, this time bringing to light a surprising, compact biopic dripping with decadent black comedy. Overflowing with crude prose and a female-heavy cast, Wicked Little Letters carries its British charms as a badge of honor. Factual or not, this is one wickedly fun, deceptively brilliant movie.
Tear open some Wicked Little Letters, out for delivery in N.Y. and L.A. on Friday, March 29th, followed by all mailboxes on Friday, April 5th.
