In Singapore, the wife of a rubber plantation manager (Herbert Marshall, The Little Foxes), Leslie Crosbie (Bette Davis), shoots a man to death after he supposedly tried to rape her. However, a letter Leslie wrote the night of the shooting contradicts her version of events.
Reaction & Thoughts:
“With all my heart, I still love the man I killed.”
Based upon W. Somerset Maugham’s 1927 play, adapted by Howard Kotch (Sergeant York and Casablanca) and directed by William Wyler (Jezebel and The Little Foxes), The Letter is an impressive suspenser that still has much of its original power. This is a film I feel compelled to revisit often, and one movie that never fails to blow me away — it’s extraordinary in every possible way.
The Letter was ahead of the curve, anticipating post-war malaise. The film makes you rethink the whole idea of film noir as a genre. Perhaps filmmaker Paul Schrader (Hardcore and America Gigolo) was right after all. Schrader insisted that “noir is not a genre, but rather is defined by more subtle stylistic qualities of tone and mood.” Even though The Letter is rarely placed alongside the greatest noir films, the movie is, in my opinion, one of the best examples of that style of filmmaking.
The challenge here was to turn a stage play into a valid cinematic experience, a daunting task that director Wyler approached with much enthusiasm and imagination, demonstrating what great craftsmanship is all about. Wyler was undoubtedly assisted by Tony Gaudio’s (The Old Maid) magisterial cinematography, Warren Low’s (All This, and Heaven Too) and George Amy’s (Yankee Doodle Dandy) clever editing, and Max Steiner’s (Now, Voyager) atmospheric music score.
The Letter is full of intriguing touches. Especially brilliant is the opening sequence. It’s a very effective montage that has the effect of pulling you into the story right away. The main character’s constant knitting — like a spider spinning a web — and her obsession with the moon — some people believe that the moon influences violent behavior — are fascinating elements that enhance the storyline.
And there’s Bette Davis. Critic Pauline Kael wrote, “Davis gives what is very likely the best study of female sexual hypocrisy in film history.” Leslie is definitely one of cinema’s most fascinating anti-heroines and Davis hits all the right notes. It’s a brilliant performance, one of her very best. Davis rarely moves her body and Wyler often photographs her from the back, yet she is able to project all kinds of complex emotions.
In addition to Davis’s spellbinding work, there are few other performances that deserve to be mentioned. James Stephenson (Shining Victory) plays Leslie’s lawyer with quiet authority — he received a well-deserved Oscar nomination. Gale Sondergaard (Anthony Adverse) barely speaks, but she is imposing as the Eurasian woman who blackmails Leslie. Herbert Marshall is also terrific as Davis’s devoted husband.
The cast also includes Victor Sen Yung (Jimmy Chan in the Charlie Chan movies), Frieda Inescort (Pride and Prejudice), Cecil Kellaway (Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?) and Elizabeth Inglis, actress Sigourney Weaver’s (Alien and Ghostbusters) mother (Inglis appears in the extended edition of Aliens as Ripley’s elderly daughter).
Conclusions & Final Thoughts:
The Letter is a superb thriller with one of Davis’s best performances. There are multiple film versions of Maugham’s story: Jean de Limur’s 1929 version, starring Jeanne Eagels, ABC’s 1982 TV remake, with Lee Remick as Leslie Crosbie, and The Unfaithful, with Anne Sheridan, a loose adaptation of the play. B&W, 96 minutes, Not Rated.