#15: The Letter (1940) (dir. William Wyler)

This won't be the last Wyler film I write about, but it was my introduction to the powerhouse acting and wide-eyes of Davis. A stunning opening tracking shot alone is worth paying close attention to.

I first saw The Letter (1940) over a decade ago around the same time I finally caught up with two other noir films that stuck with me, one of which I will write about eventually: Out Of The Past (1947) and The Locket (1946). Imagine this as also being the first time I saw Bette Davis. My introduction to her was a truly memorable opening scene where she guns down a man as he tumbles down the front stairs. 

Of course I then went on a bit of a Bette Davis binge making sure I saw the films she’s mostly known for later on. The Letter stood out to me only because it seemed to combine two genres I would later revere: a filmed play and a film noir. I think the former is what turned some folks off - this is a very talky story in which our lead character tries to defend herself to others whether it be her husband, lawyer or anyone who seems to doubt her “innocence.”

Suffice to say, I won’t reveal or spoil the outcome. The final moments are certainly a compromise due to the Hays Code which determined what occurred. This could’ve been even better than what we’re presented with yet it’s an early favorite of mine. It served as a gateway to so many things I would go on to appreciate further. William Wyler, Bette Davis, film noir, the talky centralized location melodrama and well, a good ole fashioned mystery where it’s all about learning about the past and the murderer’s motive. Anyone who knows me already can confirm that I adore a very dialogue heavy play that comes to life.

Based on the Ethel Proudlock case and the 1927 play of the same name by W. Somerset Maugham, the plot sees Davis’ Leslie Crosbie murder Geoff Hammond in the opening scene - a sublime opening that hooks you immediately. The initial tracking shot as we see several plantation workers sleeping in hammocks, perhaps on early commentary on class division, stops right in front of a nice bungalow where a beautiful woman is doing something horrific that captures everyone’s attention, including ours.

The workers run towards the house, stopping and staring at the dead man, and then at Davis with mingled apprehension and revulsion. She drops the gun, the first of many shots that will connect the ground to death, either past or future. Finally, the camera moves in for a close-up on Davis, establishing the suspense for the audience, the whydunit that can be every bit as compelling as a whodunit.

“Wyler augments the twisty plot with some brilliantly atmospheric chiaroscuro lighting, bathing these morally ambiguous characters in the light of an unrelenting moon where darkest secrets are laid bare for all to see. 

He frames it in such a way that every expression is crucial, using the superb cast to great effect for fantastic acting all around, especially Marshall as the devoted husband and Stephenson as a lawyer slowly drawn into corruption.” - Josh Gillam

As the plot rolls on we learn that she killed him in self-defense or did she?! A blackmailer knows that she’s hiding something and the titular letter may have a lot to do with what really occurred between Crosbie and Hammond. Her lawyer certainly has suspicions and of course, her husband wants to believe what she initially proclaims: “That man tried to make love to me, so I shot him.” From that point forward there are twists and character development that relies on the strength of Davis’ talent early on that is mesmerizing to witness. She’s the reason to seek this out.

What makes this film alluring and sort of majestic is the setting. Granted, its depiction of different cultures leaves a lot to be desired during this time period so one has to look past one in particular. The creepy Eurasian widow (Gale Sondergaard) of Hammond’s is written as one-dimensional and borderline caricature-esque - complete with unfortunate yellow-face makeup. That misstep is in contrast to far better representations. Wyler has been thoughtful and respectful towards Black characters in Jezebel, the disabled in The Best Years Of Our Lives of course and here he also gives plenty of room in The Letter to Ong Chi Seng, the Malay assistant to Stephenson’s lawyer. Seng is given far more depth and dimension.

Thankfully we are also given a measured portrayal of the Malayans' anger towards their deceitful, privileged “superiors” and it gives you reasons to adopt that same opinion, even when the British throws insults at them. It’s jarring to experience any demeaning hate speech but here it often feels right in step with certain characters and their motivation to overpower and dominate.

Malaysia is a tropical setting with a proto-Tiki aesthetic to it. The opening tracking sequence that shows us how the workers rest immediately clues you into the world we’re about to enter. The film itself just looks and feels exotic and isn’t your typical setting for a film noir, which adds to its unique qualities even if we’re mostly focused on interior debates and conversations. There are a lot of scenes of people sitting or standing in rooms, placed symmetrically, in order to try to get to the bottom of who they are and why they’re determined to save themselves.

“All this Malay malaise is captured in rapturous beauty by Tony Gaudio, whose stark rendering of chiaroscuro milieu amounts to visual storytelling at its most seductively potent and with the sumptuous opening tracking shot, William Wyler establishes a directorial presence that is felt throughout, whether in the confines of the ordered and stuffy colonial rubber plantation or the Sternbergian exoticism of the Chinese quarter, where the frame is crowded with ornate foreign artifacts and chaotic paraphernalia. Destiny and fate intermingle with guilt and revenge as implicating details emerge that transform a clear-cut case of self defense into cold blooded murder.” - James

Davis, wide-eyed and expressive (sometimes internally, sometimes not) is just a force of nature to where you know you’re watching a legendary movie star of the highest order. She knows how to command attention. There’s something about her portrayal on screen that leads the audience to somehow sympathize with her even during moments of questionably cold cruelty. An assured damsel but also one who smartly highlights a certain vulnerability. It’s easy to see why fans of her vast career cite this as a strong example of what she can bring to a role. Even just the way she looks up at the sky, shadow towering over the victim, is truly special.

In a career that saw Davis portray everything from martyrs (Of Human Bondage) to unhinged former child stars (Whatever Happened to Baby Jane), Davis was at her best in the kind of role she plays in The Letter. Leslie Crosbie is manipulative to be certain, deft at faking innocence when we and she both know she is anything but. Herbert Marshall makes for a stalwart, if too-trusting, husband. Yet it is James Stephenson (whom Wyler first rejected as being too inexperienced) who shines in the part of Leslie’s attorney. The conflict he suffers can be cut with a knife as he slowly comes to realize his client may not be the victim she paints herself to be. 

When I think about The Letter as being another favorite, I wouldn’t say it’s one that ultimately ends up tightly constructed to satisfaction. My feelings about it stem a bit from that initial sense of awe and discovery before diving deeper into the world of Wyler. He does some exceptional work here with brushstrokes of the moon, peering in and out behind the clouds along with lighting choices that often showcase Davis as imprisoned in her own mind (blinds can create the effect of prison bars obviously). There are great moments of over-the-shoulder tracking shots, deep focus angles and tight close-ups that serve as punctuation. He knew what he was doing early on and only got better with time.

This is a really thoughtfully constructed noir with a central performance that really makes this special for me even if I realize there are far more better examples with endings that weren’t altered to appease the moral majority. Not to mention the fact that this was James Stephenson’s first performance and right out of the gate, he comes across as confident and conflicted. In the end, this turns out to be a fascinating portrayal of someone who can’t help but compulsively be in denial. At one point, does she begin to believe her own lies?

The Letter is a classic ‘whydunit’ that works well with one viewing, as opposed to multiple ones though there are pleasures to be had especially if there’s a chance to catch this on the big screen (for that opening alone). Revisiting it now after nearly a decade did make me rethink whether this necessarily belongs on a list of favorites but I’ll stick to my gun(s) since there’s no denying how much I respond to Bette Davis’ eyes. When I get to Wyler’s Oscar-winning anti-war triumph though, that’ll be where I sing his praises even more so.

Cue up The Box Tops song too!