The Letter

What a wonderful film this still is, so long as you're not hamstrung with all the modern pc prejudices. Sadly I feel that one far-off day this film will be banned, when apparent white moral repugnance of the past overwhelms the remaining whites with shame. I've seen "The Letter" now maybe 12 times and it hasn't polluted my mind with imperialist or racial stereotypes, just filled it with pleasure that Wyler at Warners could make such an atmospheric studio-bound gem in 1940.

At the start woman shoots man - but was it murder or justified homicide? All of the cast are superb in their roles, Bette never looked sexier, Herbert Marshall never so realistic, and Gale Sondergaard never so sinister - but James Stephenson! He only made a few more films before his premature death but his understated sweaty performance as the lawyer in this electrifies me every time I watch - without him it might have a very different story! Although on a serious level it is (to me) typical Somerset Maugham fare, I haven't read any better from him as yet. Bette has some fine lines and scenes, and only occasionally hamming it up. Steiner's music is repetitive, but memorable anyhow, and the photography gleams well under the Warners arc-moonlight. But as near perfect in every department as it could get, it's still dignified Stephenson's film - he steals every scene he's in, come what or who may.

The Hays Office was the real uncivilised savage at the end, not the inscrutable "Orientals", but even with such a contrived messy ending it remains compulsive classic viewing for me, once every couple of years.

The wife (Bette Davis) of a rubber plantation administrator shoots a man to death and claims it was self-defense. Her poise, graciousness and stoicism impress nearly everyone who meets her. Her husband (Herbert Marshall) is certainly without doubt; so is the new district officer (Bruce Lester); while her lawyer's (James Stephenson) doubts may be a natural skepticism. But this is Singapore and the resentful natives will have no compunction about undermining this accused murderess. A letter in her hand turns up and may prove her undoing.

This remarkable drama begins with several literal bangs, and we're fascinated from that moment until the last frame of film. Davis, with her precise and intricate manners that match her character's elaborate web of deceit (symbolized by her compulsive crocheting), gives a fiery, mannered, mysterious performance that may equal anything she's done. Marshall and Stephenson are both subtle in their acting and refined in their manners. William Wyler directs an adaptation of W. Somerset Maugham's play (Maugham provided the material for Davis's breakthrough role in "Of Human Bondage") and never makes a false move until the censor-imposed ending. Tony Gaudio's photography, with the light often hitting people from a full moon or through the slats of blinds, is splendid. Max Steiner's music, though repetitive, is very effective. A great film.

In `The Letter' William Wyler takes a predictable plot and turns it into a brilliant film with the help of one of the grande dames of film. For hell hath no fury like Bette Davis with a revolver in her hand.

The film opens with Leslie Crosby (Bette Davis) emptying her revolver into a man on her front porch, shooting him twice after he hits the ground. She tells the police she was defending herself against his sexual assault. She seems to be headed for an easy acquittal until (surprise) an incriminating letter surfaces that suggests that she summoned the victim to her house with the clear intention of murdering him.

Can the evidence be suppressed? Will she be acquitted? Was she really in love with the victim? The answers to these questions are obvious to all but the most naïve viewer. Yet, despite the transparency of the plot, this film works for two reasons: Bette Davis and William Wyler.

Bette Davis is arguably among the best actresses of all time. She was originally signed by Universal Studios, who dropped her because she didn't have the looks to be a movie star. Still, Warner Brothers decided to take a chance on her in 1932, signing her to a seven-year contract that would produce two Oscars. She was nominated for best actress eleven times, winning twice (`Dangerous', 1936 and `Jezebel' 1939). She was nominated five straight years from 1939 to 1943. This performance was in the middle of that run. It is classic Bette Davis, utterly in command of every scene. Her portrayal of Leslie is superb, a duplicitous and cunning woman who could manipulate any man to do her bidding. It took another woman to humble her. This is Davis in her prime and it is awesome to see her at work. She could make a dog food commercial exciting to watch.

What Davis was to acting William Wyler was to directing. (The two shared more than a professional relationship, and it was widely rumored at that time that they were romantically involved.) Wyler was nominated for best director twelve times winning three (`Mrs. Miniver', 1942; `The Best Years of Our Lives', 1943; `Ben Hur', 1960). Like Davis, he was also nominated for this film. Wyler's camerawork here is fantastic. In black and white films, lighting is critical, because the director doesn't have the luxury of relying on color to dramatize the images. Aided by veteran cinematographer Tony Gaudio, Wyler's use of lighting and shadows in this film is brilliant. It could serve as a primer for dramatic black and white cinematography. Gaudio was also nominated for an Oscar for this film, one of his six nominations in a forty-year career.

This film was nominated for seven Academy Awards, including best picture, but it was shut out. Despite a predictable story, I rated it a 9/10 on the strength of the acting, directing and cinematography. It is an excellent opportunity to see Bette Davis during her glory years in one of her many outstanding performances.

Among the three Wyler-Davis' collaborations (the others being "little foxes" and "Jezebel" ) "the letter " is their triumph.The repugnance that most of the French critics feel for the great Wyler is one of their major flaws (coming from "les cahiers du cinema " and the stupidity of the nouvelle vague ravings).

"The letter" is a splendor.A screenplay so simple and so effective it's a wonder it grabs us till the last pictures.A first sequence to rival the best of Hitchcock.A feverish sticky deadly atmosphere from the mysterious garden where a malefic full moon shines on Davis' inscrutable face to the seedy place in the Chinese quarter where they smoke opium and where Gale Sondergaard spins a web :in this memorable scene when she forces Davis to kneel down,she almost surpasses the star,which will seem an impossible task to some,and yet..Every time Sondergaard appears on the screen ,she's absolutely terrifying.I was saying that the screenplay was simple ,but that kind of simplicity takes genius and I wish today's stories had this implacable logic.As always in Wyler's works of that era,the ball sequence is a recurring theme (see the admirable scenes of "Wuthering Heights" and "Jezebel" )Thus,the finale scenes revolve around a ball,beginning with Davis's entrance and ending with a view of the dancers from the outside ,à la "Wuthering Heights" .Excellent performances by the whole cast,fabulous directing,particularly in these last pictures ,where Davis is walking through the garden ,under a bad moon rising..You must see "the letter".

In a career that spanned almost six decades, it would be hard pressed to cite one definitive Davis performance. There are so many, and with the number of Davis fans worldwide, it would be redundant to list them here.

However, Davis's performance as adulterer/"devoted" wife "Leslie Crosbie" has to rank as one of her finest. Davis does more in the short span of ninety-five minutes (the film's running time) than an actor of lesser skill could do in an entire career. Her "Leslie" is delicate, yet demanding, appealing yet repulsive, and submissive yet authoritative. The character dominates every inch of the screen and the actress makes full use of those trademark "eyes" of which Kim Carnes sang.

The supporting cast is equally as brilliant, with Herbert Marshall outstanding as her loving (but dim-witted) husband, James Stephenson, suave and determined, as Davis's lawyer, Victor Sen Yung (later to achieve fame as "Hop Sing" on TV's "Bonanza"), and Gale Sondergaard, magnificent in the speechless yet captivating role of "Mrs. Hammond."

And praise of this film is not complete without mention of its score. Max Steiner contributed one of film's greatest musical accompaniments. So powerful is this work that Laurence Rosenthal adapted themes in his score to the television version, starring the late Lee Remick.