Rated: MA15+
Directed by: Thea Sharrock
Written by: Jonny Sweet
Produced by: Graham Broadbent & Pete Czernin, Ed Sinclair, Jo Wallett
Starring: Olivia Colman, Jessie Buckley, Anjana Vasan, Joanna Scanlan, Gemma Jones, Malachi Kirby, Lolly Adefope with Eileen Atkins and Timothy Spall, Hugh Skinner, Paul Chahidi, Jason Watkins and Alisha Weir.
‘Congratulations on your tragedy.’
Based on a true story, Wicked Little Letters opens with the statement, ‘This story is more true than you’d think.’
The pious, God-travels-through-the-just, Edith Swan (Olivia Colman) and do-I-look-like-the-anonymous-type-to-you?! Rose Gooding (Jessie Buckley), newly arrived in Littlehampton from Ireland, are neighbours.
It’s the 1920s and they share a bathtub and privy out the back.
Rose is ah, very natural, happy to swear, pass out on the toilet, and speak her mind. She lives with her daughter Nancy (Alisha Weir) and partner Bill (Malachi Kirby) – her husband known to have died in the war.
Ms Swan watches her from the window and delights in Rose’s bold nature. Edith decides to take Rose under her wing – to show the way to the light, of course.
But when child services are called to Rose’s door, she turns to the likely Ms Swan, thinking it must be the God-fearing neighbour, to which Ms Swann adamantly denies.
After the incident, the poison letters addressed to Edith begin.
The letters are vicious and filled with profanities that’s jarring in the quiet house of the Swans – ‘Foxy-assed rabbit-fucker,’ a favourite line.
‘It will be the death of me’ – exclaims Edith’s mother (Emma Jones).
Edward Swan, the stern, captain of the ship, father is outraged and demands the police become involved.
It’s the 19th letter.
The obvious suspect is of course, the riotous neighbour, Rose.
And without any evidence, Rose is taken into custody.
But Woman Constable Moss (Anjana Vasan) is not convinced.
Neither are Edith’s friends who gather every week for a game of Whist.
‘Congratulations on your tragedy,’ says Kate (Lolly Adefope). She’s the proud mother of several parakeets that can be a handful.
It’s post-war England where the women who were left to work are now expected return into polite society as delicate flowers after driving tractors in the absence of their men at war.
The women have found their strength yet are forced into submission – ‘Let the man speak,’ Ms Swan’s father tells her. Only to interrupt the policeman to say, ‘Carry on.’
Whereas Rose grew up helping her grandfather burgle houses.
It’s a guilty by reputation scenario but expands as the film digs deeper into the characters, the drama shown in the nuanced changes in facial expression, Edith’s pious words overshadowed by the flash of delight in her eyes as she reads about herself in the newspaper.
This is a lighthearted viewing, much of the humour based on the times and language like, ‘butter-my-wig’ juxtaposed with the blunt Rose and of course the delightfully explicit poison letters, ‘Dear Edith, you foxy-ass old whore, you really are a tricksy fucker.’
Not the hilarious watch I thought it would be, but there’s a lot of heart here and an interesting character study of the hypocrisy of those who are forced to deny their true nature.