film review: Wicked Little Letters

 

Directed by Thea Sharrock

Written by Jonny Sweet

ChinoKino review: C

Reviewed by Allan Tong

In 1919, in the English seaside town of Littlehampton, two neighbours, Edith Swann and Rose Gooding, ceased being friends when Edith reported Rose to the authorities after Edith and other members of Littlehampton received poison pen letters full of threats and obscenities, including the C-Word. In Thea Sharrock's film treatement, co-scripted by Jonnny Sweet, Edith is prim and proper, upholding the values of early-20th-century England, while Rose is the free-spirited and feisty Irish immigrant. If the two were men, then no scandal or police investigation would have erupted. After all, it was fine for men to curse, at least in letters, but, oh dear, not women.

Though performances by leads Olivia Colman (as Edith), one of the Britain's top actors, and Jessie Buckley (Rose) are strong, their characters are thin and one-dimensional. I never got to understand them nor did I care to. Another problem with this film is the approach to race. Rose's lover is a Black man and Police Officer Gladys Moss (Anjana Vasan) is of South Asian decent. I don't know if these two are based on real-life characters, but racism was rife in 1919 England and yet race is never mentioned in the film. Instead, sexism is placed front and centre.

 

Look, I'm all for racial diversity in films, including the ones I have made and the many I have programmed for festivals, but this casting doesn't work in this context. Sharrock has applied 2023 mores onto a 1919 setting, and the juxtaposition just confuses the viewer. The non-white characters are elephants in the proverbial room and amounts to awkward storytelling.

A final flaw with Wicked Little Letters is tone. This is supposed to be a black comedy, but it's played for broad laughs and few of the jokes land. Instead, all the white guys, including the cops (except Moss) are sexist buffoons, Rose is party animal and Edith is uptight. Their dialogue lacks wit, lacks bite. The two leads never feel like close friends to start the story, so there's no sense of loss when they fall out. Moreover, the scandal over the foul language doesn't translate to audiences. So what? What's the big deal? Some bad language in letters. Shrug. Sharrock doesn't establish the milieu where these letters are shocking to the public.

In the end, Wicked Little Letters is a big misfire, led by good intentions, but misapplied in an historic story that fails to condemn sexism.

Wicked Little Letters opens April 5 in Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver, and expands to other cities on April 12.

film review: The Glorias

 

Directed by Julie Taymor

Written by Julie Taymor and Sarah Ruhl, based on My Life on the Road by Gloria Steinem

ChinoKino score: B-

Review by Allan Tong

Feminist pioneer, Gloria Steinem, receives the overdue biopic treatment at the hands of one of the most imaginative directors around, Julie Taymor. Taymor takes an unconventional approach, bouncing between Steinem travels as a university students through impoverished India to her pivotal role in launching the feminist movement and to her struggles against sexism as a young journalist in 1960s New York. The effect, unfortunately, is uneven. It's like a cinematic triptych where we view various Glorias juxtaposed and in parallel which is both dazzling, but confusing.

Young Gloria grows up in Depression-era Ohio where young Gloria is haunted by her mother who plunges into melancholy. Her mother was a journalist, but had to hide behind a man's byline. Glorias learns that it's a man's world and women take a back seat. Gloria's father (played by a scene-stealing Timothy Hutton) is lovable sort of schemer, always looking for ways to turn a quick buck, but ultimately he looks out for his little girl. 

Flashforward about a dozen years, and Gloria is traveling on her own through India, paid by a fellowship. She sets out to listen to the plight of lower-caste women. She hears of young girls being raped and abused in a society that ignores their plight. Her consciousness, born in her mother's house, matures here.