The Letter

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".

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.

Bette Davis was known at some point to never let her audience down when it came to her movie roles and this movie supports that. Powerful in its story-telling and slow to reel you in and then hook, The Letter gets better as it unfolds but not to disappoint those that like to get right to it, this movie also hits the ground running right at the start. Every viewer gains as this movie is played. Good cast and crew to not mention memorable scenes that make one want to see the movie again despite knowing the ending. Excellent character and ethics being acted out and how quick they can all come to risk should the right circumstances prevail. This movie presents those ducks all lined up and ready to quack away. What fascinates us is when a fellow human being bets all they have on a thing, outcome or want. Not one but three people succumb making us see that dark forces if given an inch will take a mile if we blink. We blink and the rest is good entertainment. Ask yourself if this could have happened to you and if so, what would you do? Play the different characters and keep asking. In the end, all we say or do comes down to truth or whatever topples us. In this case, its in writing and peoples life's

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.

William Wyler directs Bette Davis in a fine screen adaptation of a Somerset Maugham story. The plot is sheer melodrama and has la Davis in all kinds of hot water, legal and personal, in British Malaya. Wyler's pretentious direction works better here than elsewhere, and this is one of his finest films. The combination of the director's grandiose desire to turn everything into high art meshes nicely with Maugham's journeyman but psychologically complex, basically mediocre tale. Add to this a bravura performance from his star, and the result is a highly watchable and intelligent movie.

The tropics are nicely evoked without without drawing too much emphasis to the fact that everything and everyone seems to be wilting in the heat. Wyler and his screenwriters have clearly done their homework, and along with the cast present a believable picture of the closed society that was the essence of British imperial rule. These people are more snobs than not, but they are often decent snobs, good friends to one another in a tight spot, and carry themselves with a kind of quiet dignity that seems to have died with the empire. There are some fine performances aside from Miss Davis', notably from James Stevenson as her lawyer, who yet seems to be her lover, but isn't; and Herbert Marshall, who may as well her lawyer but is in fact her husband. The moon figures prominently in the film, seeming to hover over the action, perhaps even dictating it, and giving the movie perhaps a stronger resonance than its civilized melodrama deserves.