Love Letters

Fresh off of The Slumber Party Massacre (1982), Amy Holden Jones turned to romantic drama and brought in Jamie Lee Curtis, who was looking for a change from horror herself. The story of a 40-year-old married man's affair with a 22-year-old woman may not be groundbreaking, but it is touching and felt authentic.

It's a quiet film but had several other positives, starting with Curtis, who aside from being gorgeous, showing her acting ability in a film filled with emotion. There are several steamy erotic scenes that threatened to become gratuitous, but I thought they were tastefully done (especially by today's standards) and integral to the story. That's what I'm telling myself anyway. The affair is echoed in letters that Curtis's character finds among her dead mother's things; it turns out she too had an affair, this one over many years with a man who truly loved her, and who was essentially in Curtis's position, the one on the outside. It's a little contrived but as Curtis sometimes uses words (and even writes an entire letter) out of the man's tender letters to her mother, we can see the commonality in the emotions of all affairs, and the impossible position they put everyone in.

There is also an interesting hint of abuse Curtis's character suffered at the hands of her father as a child; I loved the subtlety with how this was done, even if the way Matt Clark played the drunken rage of the man in the present was a tad hammy. James Keach is reasonably good as the married man, the one who wants to believe he's being "honest" by saying he's married up-front, but who is a massive hypocrite, and playing with the lives of everyone around him. I loved seeing Bud Cort and Amy Madigan in small parts too, as well as a few scenes around Venice, California and good old Randy's Donuts. Very nice ending in the graveyard too. Not quite sharp or deep enough to truly love, but a smaller film worth seeing.

After learning (from posthumously discovered love letters) that her late mother had for some time been involved in a romantic extra-marital affair, an impressionable LA disc jockey embarks on a similar liaison, with less than satisfactory results (for both herself and the film). Jamie Lee Curtis portrays a character obviously less intelligent than she first appears; married lover James Keach wasn't given a character at all; and the sparks meant to ignite between them fizzle rather than fly. It's too bad the rare chance to see a love story told from a woman's point of view was wasted on such a conventional romance, in which the protagonist is unable to define herself beyond her (purely physical) relationship with an undeserving man. Even worse: there's a distinct suggestion at the end of the film that she only chose the wrong guy. A cast of familiar faces all but disappears in superfluous supporting roles.

"Love Letters" is a remarkable and enthralling piece for many reasons. It resists plot contrivance and genre strait-jacketing to concentrate on character nuance, freshness of observation, and originality of milieu. It presents it's material with clarity, intelligence, and a refreshing lack of stylistic tropes.

Jaimie Lee plays a classical music DJ at a small, under-funded local radio station. One of her colleagues, a kind of hip nerd typical of the early 1980's time-frame, is played by 'Harold and Maude' star Bud Cort. He was, amazingly, 35 at the time but looks all of 20. During an in-studio performance by a home-made synth wizard (a delightful little sequence) she meets married photographer James Keach and almost immediately begins an affair. The film then follows the course of their various assignations until the inevitably messy conclusion, and it's ambiguous correlation with a cache of her dead mothers secret love letters.

The film captivates with it's perceptivity. The characters seem completely 'real', in the sense that they are quirky and human, and not merely constructs required to advance the plot. Their actions and motivations are often recondite, but always believable. Particularly intriguing are Jaimie Lee's relationships with her best friend, played by the delightful Amy Madigan, and her father (Western veteran Matt Clark). Amy and Jaimie create a wonderful rapport: we immediately accept that these gals are old buddies. And Clark's father is a superbly unsettling creation. We never know for sure whether his strange outbursts and creeping, leering presence are merely a combination of his boozing and grief over his wife's death or something more sinisterly incestuous.

The handling of the central sexual relationship avoids cliché and exploitation from the first meeting. The trysts are sketched with deftness and economy. Both leads are excellent. Keach plays it nicely low-key as an 'artistic' photographer turned advertising man who is, in truth, a rather selfish pseudo-intellectual bore. Curtis has never been better than here, as a tormented, passionate, almost schizophrenic character (just check her wardrobe changes from sensuous and stylish to bizarrely homely). Appearing just after her reign as the 'scream queen' of early 80's horror films, she evinces a startling, original presence, mixing controlled physicality and strength with numerous subtle character shadings. She's mesmerising, but somehow too unique to suggest a conventional 'star' presence. It's a real shame that she has not been granted such freedom since.

Written and directed by former Scorsese associate Amy Jones, who also, as yet, has done nothing as captivating, 'Love Letters' is a most interesting one-off. Eschewing trite corollaries and crowd pleasing expedience, it remains a quietly forceful achievement.

This movie surprised me. Being a young man of thirty the video store guy said I would love it. He figured seeing Jamie in the buff was important to everyone my age I suppose. It would have done just as well without the nude scenes. Now don't get me wrong, Jamie Lee is a lovely woman and I love her body, but the movie could have stood fine on it's own. There are times when I think the studios use nudity for all the wrong reasons.

This movie actually held my interest It told a story of a woman who was involved with a married man. It did not tell the same old story even if it ended in a similar way. This was the first time I saw Jamie in something where she didn't scream most of the time and was able to act. She was great and her talents were finally showcased. The movie was nothing like I expected and normally I would have never rented something like this just because of the title. I enjoyed the movie and it gave me a perspective on things I was not aware of at the time.

It showed what total jerks people can be in these situations. I think it is worth a watch if you are interested in what can happen in a relationship like this, as it covers most of the awful things that will happen to both sides. Oh yea, it shows Jamie's ability to act too. This movie seems like it has been forgotten and not listed up until the last couple of years. If you look at several web sites that show Jamie's movies this one is not listed at all. I have looked for it from time to time wondering why I couldn't find it.

I saw it when it was released out to video back in 83 or 84 and the counter person said it was a pretty good movie or I would have not known about it at all. There were a few times where I wanted to get up and kick the crap out of a few people, so it got to me emotionally. That is not an easy task. This movie is difficult to talk about without screwing it up for someone who has not seen it yet. Cheers!

This damn film still makes me cry.

There are elements of it that seem schmaltzy and trite at times, but the overall power of the story never lets up. Curtis has probably what are her finest moments in this tiny, almost never-seen film debut from Amy Jones (who did "Slumber Party Massacre" the year before to get the cash to make this Labor Of).

It's probably the most honest and gut-wrenching depiction of obsessional love I've seen, or maybe it's just obsession. Whatever it is, it's lacerating and not to be missed. There are times when, watching Curtis' performance, it's hard for your body not to ache at the anguish she seems to be feeling.

Back to Jones' script for a second... it's full of dark, moody moments that in another film would be over-the-top and pretentious, yet work beautifully here. The photographic portrait session comes immediately to mind...an awesome scene and the two actors playing it are never shown once. The whole affair is filled with little one-offs like this, all of which are presented with a late-autumn chill.

Add to the mix Amy Madigan and Bud Cort's usually fine work (and don't forget the underrated James Keach, whose seemingly at-first overly clinical readings are awkward, then completely fit the character once he's fleshed out). Oh yeah, and Ralph Jones' score is one of the most haunting and beautiful I've ever heard.

Gets me every time.