Wicked Little Letters

When writing, I take into account that this blog is a public facing endeavor, meant at least as much for the enjoyment and information of all of you as they are a tool for me to organize my thoughts. To that end, I keep them “clean”, avoiding cursing or other forms of “rude” speech in order to keep them as widely appropriate as possible. But in my personal life, I make no such effort. I don’t get super creative with my foul language, as I don’t deploy it for insults (at least, not out loud), but the classics make all sorts of varied appearances. Often without giving it a second thought, much to my parents’ chagrin. Luckily, I’m in a profession which is rarely customer facing, so I don’t even have to curtail my usage during working hours. It’s the freedom to give myself a satisfying bit of emotional release, be it the little bit of poison and emphasis added to the retelling of a story, as a comma while I think of what to say next, or just shouting it to the heavens in frustration.

So imagine my horror upon seeing the true story of a woman jailed over their use!

…alright, that’s a slight oversimplification, but not by much.

It’s hard to gauge at a glance how 1920s Britain viewed swearing. Even today, there remain many contexts in which it’s inappropriate, specific curse words and phrases have risen and fallen in use over time, and meanings have changed. Sure, our media has become a lot more comfortable with using it, but that’s always going to be a distorted lens into the past: it’s more peering at cultural values than reality.

What hasn’t changed is the perception that it’s the domain of the low status, of the criminal, those unbecoming of society. To many members of the public, swearing reveals your true nature as that of a beast and a brute, as someone of low intelligence and lower sophistication, the mark of the uncivilized. As such, we have an easier time believing the worst of someone who frequently unleashes a flurry of four-letter words, regardless of any other evidence of their character.

Prim and proper Edith Swan (Olivia Coleman) has received nineteen letters which express their dislike for her in incredibly colorful language (my favorite is the delightfully nonsensical yet repeated “foxy-ass”). Naturally, suspicion for the anonymous letters immediately falls on Edith’s neighbor and erstwhile friend Rose Gooding (Jessie Buckley). She recently moved to Littlehampton from Ireland after her husband’s death in WWI, and lives an explosive and loud unmarried life with Bill (Malachi Kirby), arguing and speaking like a sailor and doing as she pleases, save for letting her pre-teen daughter Nancy (Alisha Weir) play guitar. Gasp!

That the evidence is entirely circumstantial doesn’t prevent Rose from getting thrown in jail for harassment and obscenity. In the mean time, Police Officer Woman Police Officer Gladys Moss (Anjana Vasan) is the only one interested in the facts of the case. The more she investigates, the clearer it becomes that no matter how much she personally detests Rose, someone else wrote those letters. But who?

It would have been easier to turn this into a simple story of neighbor vs. neighbor, the tale of a strange chapter in the life of a town thousands of years old, and slowly expanding the focus to the broader mystery of who, then why. There’s plenty of room for comedy in it (the swearing in the letters is truly next level), as well as looking at the goings on in a small town. Such a specific and odd story particular to such a tiny place can certainly make for an intriguing backdrop, as it’s likely the only people who’ve heard of it are the readers of 2017’s The Littlehampton Libels: A Miscarriage of Justice and a Mystery about Words in 1920s England by Christopher Hilliard.

And it is that, to be sure. But there are so many flourishes and mirrors and characters which get at deeper themes and offer a substantive commentary on the events and the time period and on our modern world. They elevate and deepen this movie, moving it from a delightful little comedy to one that has a bunch to say about far more than some bawdy letters.

Take Edith’s relationship with her father Edward (Timothy Spall). He is a gruff, demanding, angry, bitter man. He has a very specific way that he thinks people ought to act and talk, especially women. He frequently whips out Bible verses as both admonishment and instruction, and serves as the ultimate judge of everyone and everything. It seems he takes no joy from life, so why should anyone else? As the last of the children at home, Edith has internalized this to the point his expectations have largely become her wants and desires. While we’re told he drove away Edith’s fiance, it’s implied that his attitude towards “inappropriate behavior” inspired Edith to call child protective services on Rose after her and Bill had a raucous argument. But we’re not to take this as Edith being simply a reflection of the patriarch. Her former friendship with Rose, plus a handful of her reactions to “unbecoming” behavior demonstrates that she undeniably wishes to be as free and comfortable as Rose to express herself and throw off the shackles of the expectations of womanhood. However, the suffocating boot of her father under which she’s stuck has thoroughly poisoned her, fully confusing her own sense of self.

Or take Rose as a parent. As you’d guess, much of how she’s raised Nancy reflects her own approach to life and refusal to be constrained by norms. But Nancy wants to learn to play Bill’s guitar, and sometimes will do so outside, which is one step too far. Rose wants to save Nancy to some degree, to ensure she has some ability to live a “normal” life and fit in when she has to. The message is clear: despite all her “screw you” talk, there’s some piece of Rose that feels ashamed of her behavior, and is passing that shame down to her daughter. Being yourself is something to be done in private if at all, and none of us can truly escape the crushing pressure that society has on us, try as we might.

Also present to varying depths is the class divide, treatment of immigrants, the uncaring nature of the justice system, and more. But most central to the plot is the lack of importance put on women’s voices. This is common to all three women, although most strongly impacts Police Officer Woman Police Officer Moss. Since the men in the precinct consider this an open and shut case, she’s ordered to drop the investigation multiple times. Her refusal leads to her discovering conclusive evidence that it’s not Rose, as well as her suspension from the force.

I always delay noting when I find a movie funny, but we’ve reached that point of the review: it’s hilarious! Of course the creativity of cursing is endlessly entertaining, and the moments when Edith must read some of the letters out loud is inspired: Olivia Coleman’s posh accent was made for uttering a mixture of harsh and goofy insults. But it’s not just that. The film is full of jokes in the quick dialog, especially when Rose is involved. There are quite a few perfectly laugh out loud moments enabled by wonderful frame composition. And the supporting cast helps mightily, especially as they become more involved near the end of the film.

While Coleman’s stellar performance is key to the emotional arc, and Buckley is characteristically phenomenal and human and relatable in a way that appears effortless, for my money it’s Anjana Vasan who steals the show. Which is really saying something if you know how much I adore Buckley and Coleman! It’s the energy she brings, the timing, the nuanced way she manages to scream frustration with her body language while staying calm, cool, and collected on the surface, with a few choice deviations which hit that much harder for the contrast. More than anyone else, she manages to drift from dramatic plot beats to humorous dialog to the absurdity of the situation. Moss has her own arc about determining what serving justice really means, and Vasan plays it pitch perfectly. Vasan has appeared in movies and TV of various levels for almost a decade, but has devoted most of her focus to the West End stage, even picking up an Olivier Award for Best Supporting Actress award last year. One can only hope Hollywood and indie filmmakers alike will take note of this performance, and provide her with all the opportunities she could desire moving forward.

It says a lot about how culture shifts that whereas the letters were once enough to make the local papers and put a woman behind bars, today there was a significant amount of laughter whenever Rose cursed someone out, including from yours truly. It’s not that words have lost their power. Rather, we place more weight on the intent of the usage, and on the context in which it is said. The power dynamics at play are an important consideration, one which likely didn’t come to mind one-hundred years ago. Upsetting modern people tends to take more than such shallow attempts: the actual content and message matters. The evolution of language and how it’s wielded is a fascinating way to track the evolution of cultural norms across time. This movie is a wonderful time capsule for demonstrating exactly that, and getting in some joyful laughter at the same time.