~ Wicked Little Letters, not a film review ~

I’m not qualified to write film reviews which is why I don’t write them – this is the first – but Wicked Little Letters is a film that, once seen, you feel compelled to talk about. A water cooler talk for days, kind of film. It was honestly so good. It is the sort of British movie that kicks your front door down, headbutts you, and says, Yeah, this is how it is and whatcha gonna do about it?
Last week I went out with friends on a girl’s night to see a movie. I learned the name of the film as we climbed the stairs – Wicked Little Letters. The 2023 British black comedy written by Jonny Sweet, surprised us by turning into a mystery film. Directed by Thea Sharrock, the film stars Olivia Colman, Jessie Buckley, Anjana Vasan, Joanna Scanlan, Gemma Jones, Malachi Kirby, Lolly Adefope, Eileen Atkins, and Timothy Spall.

The first message on the screen told us the movie was based on a true story. The film opens – your classic British period piece – set in the seaside village of Littlehampton. In the 1920s, life was simple and tough, man. The stage is set for a typical, conservative small village, with working-class folks living cheek-by-jowl under strict rules of conduct, toiling daily to make ends meet.

We are saturated in cozy English old-timey-ness.

Then in the middle of the pastoral feeling, an obscene letter arrives at Edith Swan’s house, like a filthy bomb going off in a clean chicken house. The explosive ripples continue outward. Edith’s parents are exquisitely drawn, Victoria her mother is frail, freaking out over the letters, and her uptight father, Edward, explosive. The devoutly religious family appears respectable on the outside, but indoors, they live on a razor’s edge – Father Edward is an abuser ruling his home with an iron fist. The worst example of an out-of-control narcissist, Edward, is backed up in his tyrannical control of his family by the social mores of the time. The way Olivia Coleman portrays the mental debilitation of a daughter being severely disciplined psychologically, and emotionally abused by her overbearing father is sometimes hard to watch and yet ultimately uproarously hilarious and uplifting.

Into the chaos of the letters and the police being brought on board, Edith’s neighbour Rose blasts onto the screen dropping the f-bomb every five minutes and rips us out of our comfy seats propelling us at speed into the unknown. I was most discomfited by her character. I’ve never heard so much swearing in a movie as this one and most of it comes from Rose. The daughter of travelers tells us that she grew up stealing things for a living with her father. She is unashamedly who she is – something very much frowned upon at this time in history.
It turns out an unlikely friendship had developed between the two neighbours, the subservient, pious Edith Swan, and the foul-mouthed, alcohol-swilling Rose Gooding. But after the saccharine, holier-than-thou Edith starts receiving obscene letters, the finger of blame gets pointed at her chainsmoking neighbour, Rose. Some crazy court scenes ensue. I loved all the facial close-ups in this movie.
Rose is a rough-as-guts, rowdy, young solo mother who is hard to like, however, her honesty, bravery, and fierce love for her equally foul-mouthed daughter, Nancy – the scene-stealing Alisha Weir – win us over by attrition. Toward the end of the movie, we are on Rose’s side, completely.

The characters were engaging. The emotion felt real. Coleman as Edith was luminous even when she was being obnoxious. Jessie Buckley as Rose was an honest arsehole – a woman who doesn’t give a sh.t about the rules or the establishment (a free thinker), which makes her the target of a lot of judgment and therefore punishment. Set against the backdrop of the burgeoning suffragette movements, it is at heart a mystery movie – while also managing to be about equal rights – and a darned funny one at that.
Some critics felt the plot wasn’t strong enough, however I disagree. There was a full story arc that came back around and answered all the questions. We were taken on a lovely ride of not knowing and fascination, where we started to ask quite early on, huh? What was going on? Something didn’t seem quite right. Our senses tingled. We were intrigued.

The story unfolds with a curious crew of women pulling together to solve the case and free an innocent woman, in the process uncovering the surprise revelation of the actual culprit. The true story that stunned 1920s England is still astonishing today, though it got mixed reviews including this from reporter Robbie Collin, “this British chocolate-box period comedy thinks that excessive swearing works as a substitute for a good plot – but it really doesn’t.”

Okay. At first, I was affronted by the foul language too, but then it began to fit the tone of the story and become an integral part of the characters, including defining the radical change in Edith’s character as the movie goes on. Then it is foul language that caps off the ending in the funniest way possible that kept us laughing after the credits rolled.
The entire theatre of women filed out of the cinema, cackling with laughter and chattering in animated groups. Talk about a lively atmosphere. The film transported us into other people’s shoes and then delivered us home, slightly altered, looking at the world in a slightly different way. And that is the function of art. So, mission accomplished, Wicked Little Letters. A small-budget movie – afflicted with wall-to-wall cursing – about the insidious results of familial abuse, and yet I was left feeling transformed. It was so funny we came out with our cheeks sore from laughing. Quite the feat.
I highly recommend this quirky film. Have you seen any great movies worth talking about, lately?

Talk to you later.
Keep reading!
Yvette Carol
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Thanks largely to a strong cast that leans into the story’s humorous side, Wicked Little Letters is a diverting comedy even if the mystery at its core isn’t particularly clever. ~ Rotten Tomatoes

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