THIS QUINTESSENTIALLY BRITISH comedy is both huge, regressive fun (all that cussing!) and a clear-eyed observation about the misogyny and moral hypocrisy at the heart of Edwardian England. Director Thea Sharrock has found the right balance between light, at times Keystone-cop comedy with serious social commentary. It’s the true story about Littlehampton, a small English village that made national news when its residents were bombarded by a series of crude scatological letters sent by a mysterious writer. Who could it possibly be?
At the heart of the tale are two women, polar opposites and neighbours. Edith Swan (Olivia Coleman) is the frumpy, holier-than-God spinster, still living with her parents and under the thumb of her controlling father (Timothy Spall). Rose Gooding (Jessie Buckley) is a free-spirited, foul-mouthed widower (she claims) and mother of one. She is everything polite society despises and therefore clearly the culprit.
Rose’s putative husband was killed in the War; and the grim reality of the great war is the not-so-subtle contrast with the absurdity of a society now in need of -moral- protection not from the Huns, but from impolite language. It’s a criminal offence. Fortunately, the village of Littlehampton is under the protective care of Britishness by means of a police department and its prosecutorial authorities who know that single, unwed mothers are a scourge from whom all vices flow. Rose must clearly be guilty.
But the war has resulted in a stirring of female consciousness; after all, they had to carry the can while the men were all off being killed; there’s a rebellious spirit lurking in the polite bosoms of the many war widows of the village. And the spirit of this new age, when women refuse to be just seen and not heard, is in the form of a young female Police Officer (Anjani Vasan) – a new concept, unacceptable to her fellow, male officers. She’s the dissenting voice of reason, demanding proof instead of prejudice; clearly a dangerous precedent.
Both Rose and Edith find their own not dissimilar ways of breaking free from the corseted constraints of their male dominated societies. The women may lack the sticks and stones, but aha, with words…truth will out.
Coleman and Buckley are two of my favourite actors; their on-screen cussing, bitching chemistry is a pure joy. As the father, Timothy Spall is the real-world version of the pantomime villain. The police are pantomime buffoons; he embodies the dark centre of the kind of repressive insincere morality that nowadays finds it high ground in railing against ‘woke’. The race neutral casting adds a nice element of editorial sarcasm to what would have been all white Britain. Nice touch.
Go see it: a small film with a big bang.
WICKED LITTLE LETTERS Dir: Thea Sharrock (Me Before You). With: Olivia Coleman, Jessie Buckley, Timothy Spall, Anjani Vasan (Killing Eve) Writer: Jhnny Sweet. Cinematographer: Ben Davis (The Banshees of Inisherin). Production Designer: Cristina Casali (The Personal History of David Copperfield)